DreamCatcher
by IheartJack0023
Summary: "When you take the bite of an innocent, when you make a wolf of your own, when you do that, then I will cross your border and come knocking at your door." "How would you even know if I did?" inquired Scott. "Don't worry, lobito. I will have eyes watching you when you go back to Beacon Hills; the eyes of a very special huntress." [Stiles x OC] [Discontinued, but with an ending]
1. Playlist

"Snap Out Of It" – Arctic Monkeys

"Do I Wanna Know?" – Arctic Monkeys

"Reckless Serenade" – Arctic Monkeys

"I Wanna Be Yours" – Arctic Monkeys

"Drive" – Halsey

"Haunting" – Halsey

"Staying Up" –The Neighbourhood

"Leaving Tonight" –The Neighbourhood

"I'm Yours" –Alessia Cara

"Pacify Her" –Melanie Martinez

"Cake" –Melanie Martinez

"Prey" - The Neighbourhood

"Single" - The Neighbourhood

"I'm Yours" - Alessia Cara

"Compass" - Zella Day

"As You Are" - The Weeknd

"Dark Times" - The Weeknd ft. Ed Sheeran


	2. Chapter 1

A/N: This story begins in the first episode of Season 4 of Teen Wolf.

There will be some Spanish in the story; I will translate most of it. If there is no translation then it probably isn't relevant. Also, "mi hija" will come up often so I'll just say here that it translates literally to "my daughter". It is also used as  
a term of 'endearment' though not for just biological daughters. Think of it kinda like "sweetheart." Kinda. Someone would only use it to refer to women younger than them.

Also, imagine the main character/OC as Alessia Cara.

* * *

Monday, March 19th, 2006 [Age 10]

"Repeat after me: Nous chassons ceux qui nous chassent."

"Nous chassons ceux qui nous chassent," replied a young girl as she fiddled around in her seat. Her small hands were folded on her lap tightly. She tried her best to sit still even though it was difficult for the little bundle of energy.

"And what does that mean?" asked the older woman.

"We hunt those who hunt us."

"Good. I want you to engrave that phrase into your memory. It is the most important thing that you will learn as a hunter." The girl nodded in response and hesitated to speak.

"I have a question, Araya," she said after having an internal battle with herself.

"And what is that?" questioned the older woman.

"Does that mean that we can hunt humans too if they hunt us? Or does the code only apply to werewolves and other creatures like them?"

"The code is meant to be for the beasts that we are trained to kill; but know that if a human were to ever become a threat to our own life or that of one of our fellow hunters, we would kill them without hesitation as well."

"So it's a survival of the fittest?"

"In the simplest terms, yes."

"Just like out in the streets," said the girl as she looked out the window with melancholy gripping her heart.

* * *

Friday, December 28, 2011

"Severo hates this music. Me? I've always loved the music of youth; this kind especially. It has a savage energy." Araya Calavera, the leader of the Calaveras, sat as she sewed a piece of cloth. Sewing had always been a therapeutic hobby for her; a way  
of keeping her aggression in check. Across from her sat Lydia Martin and Stiles Stilinski.

"We're here for Derek Hale," stated Lydia.

"Is that so?" was Araya's response. To her right stood Severo; he was Araya's most trusted follower and her second in command. Everyone in the Calaveras knew that he would follow Araya to hell and back and most of them respected him for it. On her left,  
stood a young woman. She appeared to be no older than Lydia and Stiles. Her hands were folded behind her back as she stared intently at the two guests ready to attack if needed. Araya trusted this girl as much as she trusted Severo, if not more, but  
it was a different kind of trust. She was not just a simple follower, though she was also a Calavera; she was more of a daughter to Araya since she had raised her since she was ten.

"We know you have him," said Lydia. "We've heard you can be bought."

The girl whose name was Gabriella could easily see the anxiety that Lydia and Stiles felt. She didn't need any supernatural sense of smell to notice that. Though, she didn't blame them. Araya was an intimidating woman. Her stare could make you quake in  
your boots. Even Gabriella, having seen her more caring side, knew that Araya was a woman to be feared, even if she appeared to be a frail, old woman.

Stiles pulled out stacks of American dollars, placing them on the table.

"It's 50,000 for Derek," said Stiles. Stiles looked at the girl to Araya's left, wondering why such a young person would be there—not just with the Calaveras but also in the room with them. Her eyes had been locked on him when he turned his head to look  
at her so the eye contact that came was inevitable. Stiles' breath caught in his throat when their eyes met; they weren't a striking color, being hazel, but they held a fire in them that struck fear in his heart. She seemed fierce and dangerous; she  
had the eyes of a hunter watching its prey. Stiles felt compelled to immediately look away and brought his line of vision back to Araya.

"Where does a teenage boy get money like this? Japanese Mafia?" asked Araya with a smile. The two guests looked to their right as they heard the cocking of a gun. They saw a woman who looked ready to shoot them on command. Gabriella held back the desire  
to roll her eyes at this. She never liked that woman; she was much too trigger happy for Gabriella's own taste.

They looked to their right as they heard the cocking of another gun. Gabriella grew ready to reach for her own gun if she needed too; she knew that there was no need for her to pull it out yet since she preferred not to use any firearms.

"Not smart to come alone," said Araya.

"What makes you think we came alone?" asked Stiles with a sudden burst of confidence that Gabriella was not expecting. She wanted to smile at this. She liked this sudden shift in the jittery boy; she thought that the look of confidence he now wore looked  
attractive on him.

Gabriella readied herself to fight as she felt the sudden shift in Araya's demeanor from relaxed to tense. Araya quickly stood up from her seat.

"You brought a wolf into my home?" questioned Araya.

"We brought an Alpha," responded Stiles.

Araya turned her back on the two guests, walking slowly toward the mirrors. Gabriella glanced over briefly, but immediately brought her vision back to the two teenagers. She knew that she needed to keep watching them so that she could pounce when she  
needed to.

"My friends," said Araya sighing, "I don't think you're aware of your poor timing. Do you know what the dark moon is?"

"The part of the lunar phase when the moon is least visible in the sky," replied Lydia.

"But do you know its meaning?"

"Some people say it's a time of reflection; or grief."

"Grief and loss, mi hija. I wonder why, when you and your friends have suffered so much loss, you would risk it again for someone like Derek Hale."

"'Cause we don't like to lose," said Stiles.

"Nadie en la piscina," spoke a voice over the radio. [No one in the pool]

"Front door clear."

"South clear."

"North?" inquired Severo. "Norte? Donde esta norte? Norte? A donde esta norte?" [North? Where is north? North? Where is north?]

"Stiles," spoke a new voice through the radio. Gabriella assumed that this must be the famed Scott McCall, the true alpha of Beacon Hills. "Take ten off the table." Stiles did as he was told.

"Maybe you should just take the deal," suggested Lydia. Araya lets out a small laugh. "While I am keen to follow the warning of a banshee, I'm going to have to decline."

* * *

"I have to admit. I don't have much experience with banshees," began Araya. Gabriella was leaning against a pillar quite a few feet away. She didn't feel the need to stay so close to her at the moment because she had three other guards protecting her  
and because she could tell that Lydia was not strong enough to be a threat.

"That makes two of us since I don't have much experience being one," said Lydia.

Gabriella let her shoulders relax. She may have been on the job, but she knew that she didn't need to be so on guard at the moment. She was still on edge of course; always at the ready to attack—as she was taught.

"I have a feeling you underestimate your abilities Lydia," said Araya.

Gabriella let her eyes wander about the landscape before her. This place made her feel weary and contented; weary because her life in Tepexpan, Mexico, was not an easy one. It was a life filled with violence and a fight for survival. Regardless of all  
that, however, the nostalgia she felt from watching the scenery before her filled her with nostalgia—a feeling that made her feel like her past had been much better than it actually was. And she hated that nostalgia because she knew that things were  
never that good.

"Trust me; you'd have better luck with tarot cards." Lydia.

Gabriella's eyes followed a group of children as they ran and laughed. They were kicking around an old, worn out ball. She could tell that is was a soccer ball, or at least it once was; it was so worn out that it no longer appeared to be one. Pieces of  
it were coming off of the sides and Gabriella felt a brief feeling of sympathy pass through her as she thought about how happy these children were to be playing with such a dilapidated toy.

"Let's find out. Tell me: which of these men is about to die?" Araya.

Gabriella thought back to her childhood and how she didn't have any toys or even any other children to play with. She was the strangest child amongst the rest and so they cast her out to survive on her own. She did not mind it much however. She realized  
that she would have had no energy to spare playing regardless; the little energy that she did have, she had to conserve to survive.

"How does it work? Do you need to touch them? Maybe I give you something they own. Or is it just a feeling?" Araya.

Gabriella thought these children were lucky; and she was glad that they still retained their innocence. Although, she knew too well that that would not last much longer. In a place like the one she lived in, there was too much violence to be able to be  
oblivious to it for too long.

"I told you; I don't know." Lydia.

And Gabriella knew that the reason this province was as brutal as it was, was because the Calaveras had made this their base of operations. Gabriella was grateful to the Calaveras for having taken her in. She knew that had they not, she probably would  
not still be alive. However, that did not make her blind to their ways. She knew that they were greatly involved in the province's crime. She understood the power that they held.

"How close to death do they have to be?" asked Araya.

Gabriella's eyes instantly drew away from the scene before her. Her senses felt heightened; she could feel that something was about to happen. She turned her head over slightly toward Araya so that she could see the older woman with the corner of her  
eye. She did not flinch when Araya sent the knife that she had been holding in her hand toward one of the male guards that had been standing to her right.

"What did you do that for?" exclaimed Lydia. Gabriella felt a longing for Lydia's innocence. She wished, for a moment, that she could have been as appalled by this death as the banshee was. She wished that she were not as desensitized to violence as she  
was raised to be.

"He stole from me." Gabriella's eyes sparkled with mirth at the comment; she knew that thievery was one of the things that Araya despised the most. To this day, Gabriella was amazed that she had gotten away with attempting to steal from Araya before;  
even if she was only a child at the time.

"What do you want?" pleaded Lydia with grief coating her eyes.

"Right now? I want to know about Scott McCall. I want to know what kind of alpha he really is."

* * *

"So you're just letting us go?" questioned Scott skeptically.

"I sent four men out to where Kate was rumored to have been seen; none of them came back. Let's see if you can do better," responded Araya.

"You could've just told me she was alive."

"You wouldn't have believed me. Now I know what kind of alpha you are, and where your next step lies."

"What next step?"

"When you take the bite of an innocent, when you make a wolf of your own, when you do that, then I will cross your border and come knocking at your door."

"How would you even know if I did?" inquired Scott.

"Don't worry, lobito. I will have eyes watching you when you go back to Beacon Hills; the eyes of a very special huntress." [little wolf]


	3. Chapter 2

Monday, November 7th, 2011 [Age 16]

Strike branding: Similar to the process used to brand livestock, a piece of metal is heated and pressed onto the skin for the brand.

"Are you ready, mi hija?" asked Araya to the teenager before her. Said teenager nodded as she fidgeted with her hands. Araya placed her own hands over the girl's to stop her fidgeting. "Don't be nervous." The teen, Gabriella, bit her lip.

"I can't help it. It's my big day and everyone's going to be watching me. I'm..." Gabriella hesitated before continuing. "I'm afraid that I'm going to mess it up. None of them even like me to begin with. They're going to be waiting for me to mess up."

"You won't mess up," comforted Araya. "I raised you to be a strong huntress; and you deserve to graduate and become an official hunter just as much as everyone else here." Gabriella looked away from the older woman with doubt in her eyes.

"But I don't belong here," comments Gabriella softly. Araya does not respond. She puts her hand on Gabriella's back and directs her closer to the immense double doors before them. Gabriella gulps as she pushes the heavy doors open and steps inside the intimidating room with Araya following behind her. Araya steps forward to stand at the far end of the room. Gabriella stops a few feet before her, noticing that not as many people were present in the room as she expected. She felt relief that she would have less eyes watching her, but dejection at the fact that few people cared enough about her existence to even show up.

"We will now begin the graduation ceremony," stated Araya causing the people that had been scattered around the room to draw closer toward Gabriella. Gabriella nodded at Araya, removing her shirt before taking a seat on the stool that had been placed behind her. From the small crowd, emerged a daunting man with a metal briefcase of sorts in his hand. He placed the briefcase on the floor behind her; she turned her head back to see the man prepping to do his job. In his briefcase were several pieces of metal; they were of varying lengths, but all of them were incredibly thin. He put on some latex gloves, before pulling out a miniature-sized blowtorch and grabbing one of the metal pieces. Gabriella gulped as she watched him grip the piece with a tool that reminded her of pliers and heated it with the fire from the blowtorch.

"Turn around," he said. "And don't move." Gabriella was wary now that she could not see what he was doing. She looked forward at Araya who was staring blankly at her when all of a sudden she felt an unbearable searing pain on her shoulder.

"I said don't flinch," said the man. Gabriella obliged and willed herself to not move a muscle as the pieces were applied to her body over and over again, leaving wounds that she knew would scar.

* * *

Tuesday, January 3rd, 2012

"I can't stop thinking about what Araya said to me before we left," said Scott.

"The thing about you making your first wolf?" questioned Stiles. The two teenagers were seated next to each other hunching over their desks, whispering to one another a bit too loudly.

"Yea," replied Scott.

"Don't worry about it. You're not going to go around biting people. You're not a raging psychopath like Peter."

"But what if I do bite someone? Like by accident."

"How would that even happen?"

"I don't know, but Peter turned Kate without meaning to, right?"

"I guess," mused Stiles. "Look, don't worry about it. I'm sure it was just an empty threat."

"Empty? She tied me to a chair and electrocuted me. She doesn't seem like the type to make empty threats."

"Okay, you have a point there, but how would she even know if you did?"

"She did say that she would send someone to watch me."

"Like a spy? A hunter-spy? Is that a thing?"

"I don't know," said Scott before their attention was drawn to the English teacher at the front of the classroom.

"Alright, class," she began. "We have a new student with us today. Would you please come in now, Ms. Calavera." Stiles and Scott immediately perked up at the sound of that name. They stared intently at the doorway as a girl with tan skin and dark hair walked toward the teacher, turning to face the class. Stiles' breath got caught in his throat. He knew that this was very bad. He froze in place as her gaze met his. She did not back down from his stare. It was as if she was challenging him. Her hair framed her face wildly, curling in different directions and sticking up slightly as odd places.

"Please introduce yourself, Ms. Calavera," said the teacher.

"Hey," began the new student with a small smile. "My name is Gabriella Calavera and I just moved here from Mexico." The teacher nodded at her before directing her to be seated. Gabriella smirked slightly as she made her way to the empty desk right behind where Stiles sat. She put her book bag to the side, taking out a notebook and pen. She could feel Stiles getting flustered at the lack of distance between them.

"Scott," whispered Stiles harshly.

"What?" he responded.

"I saw her when me and Lydia went to talk to Araya. She was one of Araya's guards. She must be the spy." Scott's face grew weary as he turned his head slightly to look at the unfamiliar girl. He was met by her waving at him.

"You know," she said to Scott and Stiles as she leaned over her desk slightly so that they could hear her better. "I am right behind you." She quickly leaned back before the teacher could notice and say something."

"So we will start off this semester by reading the work of some of the world's most famous philosophers," said the teacher. "Has anyone heard of Thomas Hobbes?" The class remained silent. Many of the students began to fiddle with the things on their desk or distract themselves by looking around the room. Gabriella slowly raised her hand to answer the question.

"Why, yes, Gabriella."

"He was an English philosopher best known for writing the book Leviathan," stated Gabriella.

"Excellent. That is exactly what we will be reading. Do you know anything else about him?"

"He talks about the state of nature which means the natural state of mankind. He says that is a war against all, which basically means every person for themselves. And with this in mind, he characterized the life of man as solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short."

"Wonderful. That is exactly the basis of Leviathan. Would anyone like to comment on Hobbes' view of the state of nature based on what you've heard about it so far?" A mousy looking girl toward the front of the classroom raised her hand.

"Go on," said the teacher to her.

"I think that that's a very cynical view of people," she said. "He's looking at people and taking them for their worst qualities and not their best." Gabriella immediately raises her hand, rolling her eyes at the girl's innocence. The teacher nodded at her to signal her to speak.

"I don't think he's only looking at the bad. I think he's taking into account both the good and bad and he realizes that the bad in this world tends to outweigh the good. People, even the good ones, always end up going bad if they live long enough. It's like that phrase, 'You either die a hero or live long enough to become a villain'."

"Oh," began the teacher with a smile, "I can't wait to see what kind of discussion this will all lead to when you all have actually read Leviathan."

"Did she just quote The Dark Knight?" Stiles whispered to Scott, but Scott did not respond for he was lost in his thoughts about how to handle this newfound threat that came in the form of a teenage girl.

* * *

Wednesday, January 4th, 2012

"Mr. McCall and Mr. Stilinski. How many times will I have to tell the two of you to be quiet before you listen to me?"

"Umm," began Stiles, "just one more?" Their physics teacher sighed.

"I'm going to have to solve this problem myself," said the teacher. "So Mr. McCall, please switch places with Ms. Calavera." Stiles gulped at the sound of the name and looked at Scott with pleading eyes. Scott shrugged going to sit further back as Gabriella moved to sit next to Stiles, placing her book bag to her side.

Stiles looked over at Gabriella to his left. She was slightly leaning forward over the table; she had her notebook out but she didn't appear to be taking any notes as the teacher spoke. His eyes ran over her face and down to her right shoulder where something caught his eye. Underneath the strap of her tank top was a large scar. He moves slightly toward her to try and get a better look and saw that the scar looked like it was in the shape of the Calavera's symbol—the sugar skull. It almost looked like she had been branded; the way a person brands their livestock to show that it belongs to them. Stiles gulped at the thought of how painful that must have been.

"Cicatrizacion," said Gabriella breaking the curious boy from his thoughts.

"What?" He stuttered, embarrassed that he had been caught observing her.

"That's what it's called," she said, moving her right shoulder slightly to signal that that was what she was referring to. "It translates to scarification. It was part of my graduation ceremony; my initiation as an official hunter."

Stiles didn't know how respond so he remained silent. He gave her one last look, noticing that the normal glint of mischief in her eyes was gone and that it had been replaced by a pained look. He assumed that she must have been remembering the receiving of the scar. He finally looked away and toward the front of the classroom making sure that he avoided looking at her for the rest of the class period.

* * *

Thursday, January 5th, 2012

"Dude. What is going on with you?" questioned Stiles after watching Scott fail time after time during their lacrosse tryouts.

"I don't know. I'm having a really off day," replied Scott.

"You were dying out there. I feel actual physical pain watching you."

"You didn't make any shots," countered Scott.

"Yes. That is because I am terrible, though. Scott, you are the alpha."

"Not on the field. I'm a human on the field."

"Well, human-you is kind of sucking at the moment so do you think there's anyway you could just use like a little, tiny bit of wolf power?"

"It's cheating."

"I know it is. I just hate seeing this...freshman come in and steal all your glory after you worked your tushy off. I hate it." Stiles said.

"He's not gonna steal all the glory," stated Scott with certainty. He looked over at Liam as he made another perfect shot and was cheered on by the crowd and every other player on the field. Stiles looked at Scott knowingly as Scott's face got more serious and his eyes glowed red.

"Alright; now that you're ready to kick some ass, can I point something out?" asked Stiles.

"What?"

"Look, behind me." Scott looked behind Stiles and over at the bleachers. He saw Kira holding a lacrosse stick and sitting with Malia who appeared to be studying math.

"Why?"

"Don't you see it? Gabriella is watching us! I swear she's stalking us. Every time I turn around in the hallways she's there staring at me with those, those—those eyes!"

"I think you're being paranoid."

"Paranoid? Then why is she here?"

"Because it's lacrosse tryouts and a lot of people come to watch this," answered Scott.

"Yes, normal people who aren't hunters that are possibly trying to kill you."

"I'm not saying we shouldn't keep an eye out for her," says Scott. "But I think you should relax a bit. She hasn't done anything yet besides watch us. And even if she does become a real threat, it will be me she's after, and I know how to handle myself."

* * *

Friday, January 6th, 2012

"Liam, hey!" Stiles shouted as he ran directly toward Liam.

"We need to talk," said Scott appearing behind the freshman.

"No, you need to back the hell up, okay? Both of you," responded Liam.

"Can you just listen for one second? Please?" pleaded Scott. "Liam...we're brothers now."

"What?" questioned Liam.

"Oh, God, that's..." muttered Stiles.

"What are you talking about? We just met and you bit me," Liam said as he began to get flustered and aggravated.

"The bite...the bite is a gift," hesitated Scott, unsure of how to word what he wanted to say.

"Scott, stop. Please stop," Stiles said as he moved to Scott's side. "You, you, we're trying to help you, you little runt."

"By kidnapping me?" Liam asked.

"Just to clarify, Scott kidnapped you, okay? I aided and abetted."

"Liam, I've gone through this before," said Scott. "Something's happening to you; something big."

"Nothing's happening to me," Liam said sarcastically as he ripped away the bandage that was covering the bite mark to reveal that it had already healed. Liam walked away from the two friends who were now unsure of how to further approach the newly turned werewolf.

"Well, that went smoothly," spoke up a voice from behind them. They both turned around simultaneously to see Gabriella standing there smirking. Scott immediately got ready to attack, which Gabriella did not fail to notice.

"Come on, Scotty," she said. "You're not going to attack me here in front of all of these people." Scott, however, ignored her words and remained tense.

"Anyway," she continued, "I'm just here to say congratulations on making your first wolf. I'll be watching your next step closely to see how you handle this and progress as an alpha. I will be reporting all of this to Araya, of course. So do watch your step, lobito," Gabriella finished as she walks past them, intentionally brushing against Stiles and causing him to jump. Gabriella liked teasing the human boy. He was so easy to scare; she enjoyed the way he would react to her; and, though she would not admit it yet, his anxious demeanor was starting to become endearing to her.


	4. Chapter 3

A/N: The Spanish phrases in the beginning are from some Christian website I found online [they're not mine! Don't sue me!]. The phrases are originally in Spanish so the ones below are, for the most part, copied word for word. Translations are mine.

* * *

February 8th, 2004 [Age 8]

"Te adjuro cada espíritu impuro, cada espectro del infierno, cada poder satánico," said the priest. [I beg every impure spirit, every specter from hell, and every satanic power]

He spoke the words clearly as he held the young girl before him, that was sitting in a tub that was filled to the brim, by her neck. She was gasping for breath and crying, but the tears spilling down her face could not be distinguished from the water that covered it. He dunked her forcefully into the water, holding her down for a few moments before bring her back up.

"En el nombre de Jesús, Cristo de Nazaret, quien fue llevado al desierto después de su bautismo por Juan para vencerte en su ciudadela." [In the name of Jesus, Christ of Nazareth, whom was brought to the desert after his baptism by John to defeat you in your citadel]

The priest dunked her into the water again, pulling her up after a few moments. The small room was cramped with a few nuns, all of whom held crosses before them, reciting different prayers that would protect them. The young girl wanted to scream, but she could barely breathe. Her lung was filling up with so much water and it hurt.

"Dejar sus ataques contra la criatura que Él ha formado a partir del barro de la tierra por su propio honor y gloria." [To stop these attacks against this creature that He has formed from the clay of the land by his own honor and glory]

The girl was dunked again. She knew that the water she was being dunked in was "holy" water. The church was now convinced that she was being possessed by a demon, all because of the words of the other children. They swore up and down to the priest that they saw her eyes glowing. There could be no explanation, thought the priest, except that this poor girl must have been possessed.

"A temblar ante esta niña desgraciada, viendo en ella la imagen de Dios todopoderoso, en lugar de su estadode fragilidad humana." [To tremble before this poor girl, seeing in her the image of God all-powerful in place of her fragile human state]

Again the girl was dunked. She was trembling from the freezing temperature of the water and the fear that flooded her entire being. She was terrified that she would not be able to survive this ordeal.

* * *

Monday, January 9th, 2012

"So for this week," began the English teacher, "you will all be working on a project. It will be due next week, Wednesday, and you will all be presenting. Now, this will be a group project." Students began to mumble to each other about whom they wanted to work with. Stiles and Scott immediately shared a look signaling that they would obviously be working together.

"Quiet!" shouted the teacher, and the noise in the room began to die down in response. "You will all be in pairs that I will be assigning," said the teacher, giving the students a pointed look. The students let out a groan in unison. "I will be calling out the names of the pairs," said the teacher. "Listen for your name so that you know who your partner is. I suggest you and your partner begin immediately on figuring out what time and places work best for you both to work on this project together." The teacher began to read names. Students would occasionally let out small squeal of joy or a sigh of relief over who their partner was.

"Stiles," said the teacher, catching the boy's attention, "and Gabriella." Stiles let his head hit his desk rather hard as he heard that she would be his partner. He thought that he should have expected this because things never went his way.

The teacher immediately looked up from her list at the sound of the loud thud. "Is there a problem, Stiles?" she asked. Stiles immediately lifted his head from his desk, looking up at the teacher while shaking his head.

"No; not at all," he said quickly.

"Good," replied the teacher as she continued to read from her list.

"This will be fun," Gabriella said loud enough so Stiles could hear her. He may not have been able to see her, but he could tell that she was smirking. He gulped slowly as he began to wonder how long he would be able to avoid the intimidating huntress.

* * *

Tuesday, January 10th, 2012

"This is a serious issue," moaned Stiles.

"No, it's not, Stiles," said Scott. "I've told you before; she's not a threat to you. Doing a school project with her is not going to end up with you dead. You know the hunters' code."

"Hunt those who hunt us."

"Yea, and you don't hunt hunters, which means that you are safe with her."

"But, but," stuttered Stiles.

"Come on, man. You can't fail this class because of this. We have to be seniors next semester."

"If we survive that long."

"We will, Stiles," assured Scott, but Stiles didn't seem to be paying attention to him. Instead, the latter was looking past the former at a figure that was walking toward them.

"So you are avoiding me then," spoke a familiar voice causing Scott to turn around and see that Gabriella had been standing behind him.

"I didn't hear you coming," Scott stated.

"I have light footsteps," Gabriella replied, "like a cat. But if you listen very closely, with your little werewolf hearing, you should be able to hear me from a mile away. I have very distinct footsteps. But I don't expect you to realize that yet since you're still a young wolf."

"We're the same age," said Scott in confusion.

"I don't mean your time in this world, lobito. I mean your time as a werewolf."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're really cryptic?" interjected Stiles. "It's really creepy; makes you seem even less trustworthy."

"I'm not trying to appear trustworthy, Stiles," said Gabriella. "That is not part of my mission here. Now, let's go start that project. I don't need you bringing down my GPA."

"What? Since when do you care about your GPA?"

"Since always. Do you think that because I'm a hunter that I'm going to fail out of school or something? I'll have you know that I was top of my class back in Tepexpan." Stiles raised his brows to demonstrate his skepticism. Gabriella quickly went to grab Stiles' wrist, pulling him toward the direction of the library.

"No, wait!" shouted Stiles. "I have lacrosse practice now!"

"I already know you don't. Don't you think I would have figured that out beforehand?" Stiles sighed in defeat, allowing the girl, who was stronger than she looked, to lead him to the school's library.

* * *

"Alright," began Gabriella, "so what topic do you think we should do?" Her pen tapped on her notebook, demonstrating her impatience. Stiles shrugged in response to her question. "I was thinking that we could do something with the title; like why did he choose to call it Leviathan, and how does that choice resonate throughout the book?"

"That's actually a good idea," said Stiles, baffled that she did indeed seem to be taking this project seriously.

"Actually?" scoffed Gabriella.

"The Leviathan is a biblical creature, right?"

"Yea. In the 1500s it was used as an image for Satan; that's a century before Hobbes wrote the book."

"So he would be influenced by that image of the Leviathan then. I noticed there were also some other biblical references in the book."

"There were a lot. The picture in the beginning of the book has a quote from the book of job that translates to 'There is no power on earth compared to Him'. Him is referring to God, of course. He also talks about the 'Christian commonwealth,'" she continued, using her air quotes as she said the last two words. "He also talks about the Ten Commandments and Moses and the credibility of scriptures and demons and saints and—"

"Ok. Ok. I get it. He references it a lot."

"Yes, which is why it is actually a good topic to work on. Good job, Stiles."

The two sat in silence for some time as they each skimmed through their own books, looking for any biblical references worth using and taking notes in their respective notebooks. Stiles looked up at the huntress after some time; he was surprised at how agreeable of a person she was—he thought that maybe she wasn't the monster that he had originally made her out to be; after all, Chris Argent was also a hunter, and Allison had also been one; and neither of them were bad people.

"You're actually really smart," stated Stiles causing a break in Gabriella's concentration.

"And that's surprising how?"

"I don't know. I guess I had this mindset that you had spent your whole life focusing on learning how to be a hunter and not really how to be a good student."

"And you never thought that I could have been doing both?"

"Not really," he paused. "I have a question."

"Shoot."

"You seem to know a lot about all the bible stuff. Are you religious? Is that a typical thing among hunters?" Gabriella clenched her jaw as he asked his first question.

"I think it is common amongst hunters; at least from my experience it seems to be. I myself am not all that religious anymore."

"Why not?"

"I lived in a Cathedral for a while for about two years until I was kicked out for...reasons. And the Calaveras took me in when Araya found me on the streets." Stiles decided not to push the topic any further sensing that she did not want to go into further detail. "What about you?" she asked. "Are you religious?"

"Not really," he replied. "I used to go to church when I was little with my mom, but I stopped going after she passed away." Gabriella shot him a sympathetic look, but didn't say anything. Stiles felt a relief wash over him that he didn't expect; he was grateful that she hadn't apologized. He had gotten tired of hearing apologies whenever someone had learned about his mother, and he realized that she had probably gotten tired of hearing apologies as well. Knowing now that she had been an orphan, people had probably shot her apologies left and right after finding out about it. Gabriella nodded at him as she started to put away her things.

"Well, I think that that's enough for today," she said. "We can continue working on it later this week, okay?"

"Yea," he said as he slung her book bag over her shoulder, and walked away from the boy who wondered if this girl was slowly becoming his friend.

* * *

Thursday, January 12th, 2012

Gabriella stood outside of the boy's locker room as she waited for Stiles to come out so that they could go continue working on their project. She heard footsteps walking toward her and she immediately looked over to her left to see a girl walking toward her. Gabriella remembered who she was from her debriefing by Araya before coming to beacon hills. Her name was Malia and she was a werecoyote. She had never really met the girl since she didn't share any classes with her. Nevertheless, Gabriella immediately didn't trust Malia because she knew that coyotes were not trustworthy since they had a track record of being malicious tricksters.

Malia stood by Gabriella and Gabriella assumed that she was waiting for one of the pack.

"Are you waiting for someone too?" asked the girl trying to strike up a conversation.

"Yup. I'm waiting for Stiles," answered Gabriella, knowing that it was probably Stiles that she was also waiting for since she had seen Malia hanging around him more than the rest of the pack. She could sense Malia immediately tensing up.

"Why?" Malia questions, a low growl following. Gabriella smirked, readying herself to mess with the coyote.

"We're just gonna study together. In his room." Gabriella immediately thought about the irony of the situation—she was tricking the trickster.

"Just to make it clear, he's mine so back off."

"Oh, honey, you think I'm scared of a little coyote?" Gabriella could tell that Malia was caught off guard by her words.

"How," she began but was cut off by Gabriella.

"Oh, didn't Stiles tell you? I'm a hunter, a Calavera, sent to keep an eye on you, and kill any of you, if necessary. I would've thought he would've told you. He's known for a while now. I guess he must be keeping secrets then."

"Or maybe he thought you weren't important enough to mention," countered Malia, gritting her teeth.

"I doubt that from seeing how scared he is of me. And it's understandable, he is so frail; so easy to break."

"Don't you dare touch him."

"And what are you going to do to stop me? Bite me? I'm a highly trained hunter, I'd put a bullet through you before you even got your claws out. " Gabriella was having fun toying with the coyote. She could hear Araya's words echoing in her head, to not pay with her pray, but she couldn't help it; it always gave her a thrill. Malia let her claws come out just as Stiles exited the locker room. He rushed over to them when he saw the confrontation, going toward Malia first.

"Calm down, Malia. Put your claws away before someone sees them," he said. She growled at Gabriella one last time before putting them away. "What's going on here?" he asked.

"She threatened to hurt you," said Malia.

"Did not," countered Gabriella. "I just said that I could if I wanted to." Stiles' eyes widened at the comment.

"Alright. None of this. Malia, go home. I have to work on a project with Gabriella."

"At your house?" Malia seethed.

"No," said Stiles with a look of confusion on his face. "In the library." Malia gave one last glance at Gabriella before turning around and walking away. "You started that, didn't you?" he asked the huntress.

"How did you know?" inquired Gabriella.

"Because you said you could hurt me. You said something that you knew would rile her up. Why would you do that?"

"To toy with her."

"Toy with her? You could have started something, and hurt her; even if it wasn't physically. You're kind of sadistic, y'know," stated Stiles. The smirk on Gabriella's face dropped at the last comment. She felt her stomach drop. Maybe she was the monster that everyone made her out be after all. Maybe they were all right.


	5. Chapter 4

May 25th, 2008 [Age 12]

A scream reverberated throughout the room. It was empty save for two people. One was an older woman whom held a gun in her hand. The other was a young girl, who was kneeling on the floor, sobbing as blood streamed down her leg.

"Stop that, Gabriella. It's just your leg. You'll be fine," said the older woman.

"Why?" gasped Gabriella. "Why are you doing this?" The older woman walked forward stepping closer to Gabriella."

"Because you are still so weak," she said, kicking Gabriella over so that she lay with her back against the floor. "You need to become stronger if you want to be a Calavera. You must learn that pain makes you weak. You must grow tolerant of it."

"I can't do this. It hurts too much."

"When you're out on a hunt, if a werewolf attacks you, if it sinks it's claws into you, are you just going to lay there crying and let it kill you?" Gabriella did not respond.

"Answer me!" shouted the woman, shooting Gabriella in the other leg. Gabriella let out another scream.

"No," Gabriella stuttered out.

"Then get up. Even if both your legs are broken, you should still stand. You shouldn't stop fighting until your dead. That makes a good hunter. That will make you the best." Gabriella pushed herself to her side, using her hands to push herself up. She closed her eyes tightly and gritted her teeth as she forced herself to stand up slowly. She was finally able to get on her feet, but she was slightly bent over because of the pain. The woman got even closer to her, slapping her so hard that she caused Gabriella to collapse on the floor again.

"Get up," said the woman. Gabriella started to sob again.

"Why? Why are you doing this?" she asked the woman, the physical pain she felt rivaling the emotional one. She couldn't believe that the woman she had grown to love and trust—the woman that had taken her in and treated her like she was her own child—was being this cruel to her.

"Because," began the woman, "I will break you so that the world cannot."

* * *

Thursday, January 12th, 2012

Stiles and Gabriella sat on the bleachers by the lacrosse fields working on their project together. They had chosen to be outside rather than in the library that day since the weather was so pleasant. They had compared notes and had started to classify what they would and would not be using in their project.

"Ah, I'm tired of this," groaned Gabriella as she lay across the bleachers, an arm over her eyes to cover them from the brightness of the sun. "We've been doing this for over an hour now."

"You're the one so bent on getting a good grade," remarked Stiles from his seat right by her head.

"We'll be fine. We're practically halfway done, and we still have the weekend and the beginning of next week."

"So you want to call it a day then?"

"Yup," replied Gabriella, popping the 'p' at the end of the word. Stiles began to gather his things and shove them into his book bag, but stopped when he noticed that she had not moved one bit.

"Are you just gonna stay here?" questioned Stiles.

"Mmm," she mumbled. "Maybe. The sun is so warm and comfy." Stiles wasn't sure how to respond so he didn't. He continued to gather his things and proceeded to sling his bag over his shoulder, ready to leave, when Gabriella spoke up again.

"Stiles?" she said so softly that Stiles barely heard her.

"Yea?" inquired Stiles; having been caught off-guard, and taken aback by this gentle demeanor that he had yet to have seen on her; her voice seemed fragile, and Stiles was reminded that even though she was a hunter, she was still human—like Allison had been.

"Why'd you let yourself get caught up in this supernatural mess?" she asked. "After all, you're human. You could have walked away from this at anytime and lived a safe, normal life."

"I couldn't have walked away from this because that means that I would have walked away from Scott, and I could never do that to my best friend." Gabriella let out a soft hum in response.

"But isn't it scary for you?" she asked. "You don't have any claws or fangs. It would be so easy for any of your enemies to kill you. You're so frail."

"I have a bat," Stiles joked.

"It must be scary for Scott; to know that his best friend is basically in constant danger." Stiles gulped, starting to feel a bit guilty. Gabriella suddenly shot up from her laying position.

"I can help!" she exclaimed.

"What?" he questioned.

"I can help you."

"How?"

"Has anyone ever taught you how to fight? How to shoot a gun?"

"No."

"Let me teach you."

"Why? Why would you want to help me?" Gabriella pondered for a moment, unsure of the answer herself.

"I don't want to see you hurt. It wouldn't be fair to you or to those who care about you."

"Fair enough. But I don't want to learn how to shoot a gun, which would, by the way, be illegal. Do you even have a gun license?"

"Nope."

"I figured. And I don't want to learn how to fight. What good would it do me? Last time I tried punching a werewolf the only damage I caused was to my hand. And even if I did want to learn how to fight, I wouldn't go to you for that." Gabriella felt a small pain in her heart. As if someone had pinched it very hard.

"Alright then," she said, grabbing her bag and quickly jumping down from the bleachers.

"Wait," began Stiles, "I didn't mean—"

"Don't worry about it," she shouted back at him as she hastily walked across the field and away from him.

* * *

Friday, January 13th, 2012

When Gabriella walked into the area the party was being held in, she wasn't sure what to expect. It was in a huge room, the kind a person rents for a party. There were ladders around the edges so as to not be in the way of people's dancing. The flashing strobe lights were hanging from the ceiling, with umbrellas encasing the side that was not facing down on the dancing bodies. Gabriella smiled sheepishly seeing that someone tried very hard to make this party seem Friday the 13th-themed, and she wondered who had enough money to spare that they paid for all of this.

Gabriella looks around the room to see if there is anyone she recognizes. She spots Lydia, leaning against the wall by herself. She had not yet met nor spoken to the banshee, even though the strawberry blonde was a part of Scott's pact. The girl was not part of Gabriella's mission. Only Scott was and the banshee didn't seem to hang around the alpha very much. Nevertheless, Gabriella decided to make her away toward the strawberry blonde, choosing to stand right next to her.

"I thought you would be out there dancing your butt off," shouted Gabriella over the music. Lydia just shook her head in response.

"I don't have anyone to dance with," she said.

"You don't need anyone to dance with, Lydia," responded Gabriella, grabbing the girl's hand and pulling her onto the dance floor. Lydia felt a bit reluctant, but decided to let the hunter pull her forward. She knew that this girl was a Calavera. Stiles had told Lydia about her, but she wasn't sure if she was actually the threat that Stiles made her out to be. She knew that hunters weren't all mindless killing machines, taking Allison into account. The thought of her dead friend made her heart lurch painfully and, right before stepping onto the dance floor, she pulled against the hunter's grip. Gabriella stopped and looked at Lydia with a questioning look.

"I don't really feel like dancing, actually," said Lydia, pulling her wrist out of Gabriella's grip and walking away. Gabriella stared after the girl for a few moments before deciding to follow after her. She ended up finding Lydia outside, sitting against a wall, with her face buried in her hands. Gabriella walked over to sit next to Lydia, leaning her head back against the wall. Lydia did not budge as she felt a warm body appear next to hers.

"It's a sad, sad day when a pretty girl cries. My...mother," she hesitated, "would always say that it takes more strength to let yourself cry than to hold yourself back." Lydia didn't respond so Gabriella decided to continue. "Is this about Allison?" Lydia sobbed, gasping for a bit, before quieting herself again. Gabriella moved to embrace Lydia. "I knew her pretty well, actually. I would see her every few months when Araya would go visit the Argents. I would always hang out with Allison while the adults talked business. She was the nicest girl I ever met. She didn't judge me or fear me because, unlike the other children back home, she didn't know me as a Calavera. Once he were old enough that our parents, or guardians in my case, decided we could have phones, we kept texting each other every now and then, always keeping in touch. The last time I saw her, actually, was only a few weeks before she moved here. I was sad to hear that she had died. She was so young. So I can understand your pain, though mine may not be exactly the same as yours." Gabriella could see that Lydia had stopped crying. She wiped her tears before turning to look over at Gabriella.

"She didn't deserve to die," croaked out Lydia.

"From my experience I've come to notice that the good-hearted tend to die young. The world is cruel and destroys those it cannot break." Lydia nodded her head, letting herself ponder over the words. "You should go home," suggested Gabriella. "This is no place for a broken heart. Go take a long shower, eat some ice cream, go to sleep." Lydia grabbed Gabriella's hand, giving it a small squeeze.

"Thank you," she whispered, turning to walk away and head out. If Lydia had felt indifferent toward the hunter before, she definitely did not anymore. This girl may have been the enemy, but she knew now that she was definitely not a bad person. And Lydia wondered if one day they could grow to be friends. She definitely saw the possibility in the future.

Gabriella gave herself a few minutes to compose herself. Araya's teachings to harden herself and her heart passed through her thoughts, but she pushed them away as she thought about her mother, whom had taught her otherwise. "Never turn your back on someone in need," she would say. Gabriella never saw her betray those words until she left her own daughter at the steps of the Cathedral with no intention of ever coming back. She shook off the gloomy thoughts, bringing herself to walk back into the party. She headed to the table with the punch, grabbing a cup and filling it up. She assumed that it was spiked and confirmed her suspicions when she felt the laced alcohol burn its way down her throat. She downed the punch quickly, starting to feel its effects already, and headed toward the dance floor, letting herself be pushed further in by the wriggling bodies. She closed her eyes letting the music surround her, and pushing all thoughts about her life out of her mind. Maybe, she thought, for just a few moments, she could be a normal teenager.

She moved to push her curly hair out of her face and upward, and opened her eyes only to see Stiles pushing through the crowd. He wasn't trying to dance; rather, he seemed to be searching for someone. Gabriella decided to make her way toward the freckled boy, catching him off guard when she appeared before him.

"Who ya looking for?" she said loudly right next to his ear so that he could hear her over the music.

"Malia," he said, continuing to look around.

"Well, you're not gonna find her in this crowd; so how about you just enjoy yourself and dance. I'm sure she's having fun doing the same thing right now."

"I'm not really much of a dancer."

"Oh, come on," she said, grabbing his hands, putting them on her shoulders. She put her own hands on his waist, pushing against them so that he could move them to the rhythm of the music. "Wow, you really can't dance. You have no rhythm like every other gringo I've ever met. Ok, loosen up. Stop trying. Let me guide you." [white boy] Stiles did as he was told. She moved his hips and moved her hands up his sides, showing him how to move his body. Once he got the hang of it, she pushed his hands to her waist and moved hers around his neck. The sudden closeness allowed him to smell the alcohol on her breath. He could see her much better from this close. Her curls bounced up and down as she moved, it was starting to puff out, though, because of the heat and sweat. Her eyes were closed, and she was smiling. She seemed to really be enjoying herself, and Stiles realized that he was kinda glad that she was. His hands grazed the skin of her sides since the shirt she was wearing stopped a few inches above her bellybutton, and Stiles observed that her skin was really soft.

He was so engrossed in the details of her, that he hadn't realized her face getting closer to his until their lips met. Her lips were soft and the kiss was tender and Stiles didn't really want to pull away. She moved her hands, up to his chest, and she pulled her by the waist closer to him. He thought about Malia, but only for a split second because flashes of memories abruptly flooded him. He could smell the scent of the earth after the pouring rain that he would always watch through his window. He heard his mother's laughter, soft and gentle. He felt the sand in his shoes from the sandbox where he met Scott. He felt the heat of the sun beaming down on him on a chilly day. Past moments were flashing through his mind, and it was overwhelming, but Stiles didn't want it to stop. They were all happy moments, and for those few seconds he felt his anxiety ease and a wave of tranquility set over him.

But then Gabriella pulled away, ending the kiss, and the memories stopped flashing in Stiles' mind. He grew confused. He wanted to know what that was, and how that had happened. Gabriella stood before him, appearing breathless. She had a worried look on her face.

"I'm sorry. I have to go," she said, pushing through the crowd away from him. Stiles was in such a daze that all he could do was stare after her. After a moment it faded and Stiles remembered that he had been looking for Malia. The weight of his actions suddenly hit him. He felt so guilty that he started to grow nauseous. He felt like he was going to puke. He breathed in deeply and pushed through the crowd. He knew that he needed some fresh air immediately.

* * *

Tuesday, January 17th, 2012

Gabriella and Stiles sat outside of the school on one of the wooden tables meant for students who wanted to eat their lunch outside whenever the weather permitted. Stiles sat on the seat as he was supposed to, while Gabriella sat on top of the table itself. The two were finishing up their project. They had written all of their information onto paper to hand in to their teacher already and were now putting some last minute touches on the poster board that they would be using to present. They sat in silence the entire time, a tension hanging in the air between them. They didn't say a word to each other until they finished up with the board.

"So are you taking this home or am I?" asked Gabriella.

"I think you should," Stiles said. "My room is a mess so I feel like I might lose it or damage it." Gabriella nodded as they packed up their things. Before they went to part, Gabriella spoke up, in hopes that she could ease the tension between them.

"I'm sorry, by the way," she said.

"Huh?" was Stiles' response.

"For Friday night, at the party. I shouldn't have kissed you."

"You have nothing to apologize for," Stiles said while averting his eyes. "You were drunk, and I was completely sober so I should have stopped it."

"And you didn't. Why?"

"I don't know. Maybe I got too caught up in the moment. I just hope Malia doesn't find out. She'd kill me."

"You're not going to tell her?"

"Why would I? She'd be furious."

"Because being honest about it is better than lying and hoping that she doesn't find out later because if she does find out and it's not from you, then she will be even more upset than if it came out of you mouth." Stiles hesitated as he was in thought for a moment.

"Why do you care? You don't even like Malia. Or at least I don't think you do," he said.

"I don't. But you on the other hand," she started, but didn't finish what she wanted to say. She was starting to like Stiles very much, but she wasn't sure, having had kissed him now, if those feelings were truly platonic. "Don't worry," she said. "I won't say a word of this, if you don't." Stiles let out a sigh of relief.

"Thank you," he said before parting ways with her.


	6. Chapter 5

April 12th, 2007 [Age 11]

It was a different house than last time. The Argents were constantly moving and every time she came for a visit, they were somewhere different than the time before. Sometimes it was a house, sometimes an apartment. But the Argents themselves never changed. Mr. Argent was always kind to her, and Mrs. Argent always seemed scary to her, even if she did offer snacks. And her favorite Argent, Allison, never stopped being the confident, happy, lovable girl that she had always known her to be.

When she arrived at the Argents' knew house, she greeted the two parents. She asked Mr. Argent how to get to Allison's (new) room, and she went in the direction that he had instructed her, leaving the adults to talk amongst themselves.

She pushed Allison's door open slowly, calling out her name. When Allison saw who was at the door, she squealed, and jumped off the bed, running to embrace her friend.

"Gabby!" exclaimed Allison. "It's been so long!"

"It's only been six months," replied Gabriella.

"And that's six months too many! I really wish you didn't live so far away."

"Well, I'm grateful I get to see you at all." Allison nodded in response.

"I can't play until I do homework, though," said Allison with a pout.

"That's okay," replied Gabriella. "Maybe I can help you so that you'll be done quicker." Allison nodded eagerly.

"Please do! I'm having a lot of trouble with it. It's math and I don't like this topic we're on right now," said Allison.

"What topic are you on?"

"Fractions," she said with a huff.

"Fractions aren't that hard..."

"Then help me. I don't understand them at all."

"Ok, what's the first question?"

"In the summertime, you can earn $4 a day by cutting grass. How many days will it take you to earn $184."

"Alright, so you know how much you make in a day, and how much you want to make in total," Gabriella sat herself next to Allison on her bed. She took Allison's pen and began to circle the important parts of the question. "What you want to know is how many days you need to make this total. So since the total is $184 and you know that it's $4 per day, you divide $184 by $4 so that is shown as the fraction 184/4, which is?"

"46. But, I still don't get why you did that. Why did you divide 184 by 4. Why not 4 by 184? Why not multiply?"

"Ok, think of it this way," began Gabriella. "You have $4 per day and you want to know how many days. So if you work two days, how much money is that?"

"$8."

"How did you get that?"

"I added 4 and 4."

"You could've also multiplied 4 by 2, because it's 4 dollars and 2 days."

"Ok," said Allison with a nod.

"So you want to know what gets multiplied by 4 to get 184. Now, if you want you can go through a bunch numbers, multiply them by 4 until you get to 184, but that's going to take a really long time. So instead of multiplying 4 by a number to get the total, you divide the total by 4 to get the number of days. Because if you figure out how many 4's go into 184, then you figure how many single days, and the money that you want to make in each day, go into the total that you want to get. Does that make sense?"

"Ok. Yea. I'm starting to understand."

The two continued to work on Allison's homework for the next hour. Relief washed over them as they finally finish and got to play.

"What do you want to play?" asked Gabriella.

"Let's play make believe!" replied Allison.

"And what do you want to pretend to be?

"Let's play the Knight and the Dragon; I'm the knight that slays the dragon, which is you."

"Ok. Do I get to be a really cool fire breathing dragon?"

"Sure! Just let me get my toy bow!" Allison fished around her toy chest for her bow, finally finding and preparing herself to attack the dragon.

"Die, you foul beast! I won't let you terrorize this kingdom anymore," shouted Allison as she shot small, plastic arrows at her friend. Gabriella's mood fell as she realized that she was the monster yet again, but she didn't want to ruin the moment, so she kept smiling and giggling as Allison continued to shoot at her.

* * *

Friday, January 20th, 2012

"Ok, we know one thing," began Stiles, "both of the first two keys, Allison and Aiden, are both names of the dead, right?"

"But we've already tried every other dead person's name we could think of," responded Lydia. "And if you haven't noticed there were a lot of tries."

"Yeah, I noticed," Stiles paused as he looked over at Lydia. "You okay?"

"The only other banshee I've ever met, and I think I might have just drove her over the edge."

"Lydia, it wasn't your fault. I was there too, and you're probably not the only," Stiles cut himself off as he came to a realization. "One," he finished. "Banshees predict death. Right, so what if the third key is someone who isn't dead."

"But will be," finished Lydia. Lydia closed her eyes, placing her fingers over the keyboard, hoping that her banshee powers would come into play, and give her the answer that she was looking for. Stiles watched the computer screen as she began to press key after key slowly. Lydia opened her eyes as she typed in the last letter. On the screen was the name "Derek". Stiles looked on in confusion as Lydia pressed "Enter". The list immediately popped up. Stiles' eyes ran over it immediately:

Satomi Ito 10

Gabriella Calavera 8

Malia Hale 4

Liam Dunbar 3

Meredith Walker 1

Stiles froze at the sight of the second name.

"No, that can't be right," he muttered with furrowed eyebrows.

"What?" questioned Lydia.

"Gabriella. She's a Calavera—a hunter. She can't be supernatural, right? A supernatural hunter? That makes no sense"

"Maybe she doesn't know that she's something yet. Maybe she hasn't triggered it yet. After all, if Peter hadn't bit me, I probably wouldn't have known yet that I was a banshee. Stiles bit his lip lightly.

"We have to warn her," he resolved.

* * *

Saturday, January 21st, 2012

"Where's Lydia?" questioned Malia.

"She took it her freshman year," replied Stiles.

"Does that mean I could have taken it some other time?"

"Malia, you studied harder for this than any of us," encouraged Scott.

"Doesn't mean I'm going to do good."

"Well," corrected Stiles.

"Well, what?"

"It's do well, not good."

"God!"

"Okay, okay," said Stiles.

"You're doing this," began Scott, "because while we're trying not to die, we still need to live. If I survive high school I'd like to go to college—a good college."

"It's only three hours," piped up Kira. "We can survive three hours." Stiles looked away from his friends and toward the rest of the people that were lining up against the wall. He saw that Gabriella was already there, toward the front of the line. "Umm, I'm just gonna go check on something," he told his friends as he walked toward the hunter. When he appeared in front of him, she side-eyed him, refusing to give him her full attention.

"What is it, Stiles?" she inquired.

"Um, do you know about the dead pool?" he decided to ask bluntly.

"You mean the hit list for supernatural creatures in Beacon Hills? I'm a hunter so, yes, I've heard. What about it?"

"Well, umm, me and Lydia uncovered the second part of the dead pool yesterday."

"And?"

"Well, you're on it," stated Stiles. Gabriella did not react how he expected her to. She was neither panicked nor confused.

"Well," she began, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth and finally turning to look over at the boy beside her, "this is both interesting and irritating. Nevertheless, whoever is running this dead pool just made things personal with me so if you need any help with anything that involves finding this person, you can count me in." Stiles did not say anything in response, but his face showed more confusion by the second. Gabriella sighed, knowing why he was probably confused.

"Yes, I'm something supernatural," she told him. "And, yes, the Calaveras know. In fact, it's one of the reasons that they even took me in. They've made me into a powerful weapon."

"Are you—,"began Stiles before getting cut off by Gabriella.

"No, I'm not a werewolf, if that's what you're thinking, but I'm also not going to tell you what I am yet." Stiles gave her a pleading look, Gabriella felt a slight bit of guilt creep up on her, but she ignored it, turning away from the boy. "You should go back to your friends," she suggested. "From the sound of it they were listening in, and are wondering why you haven't told them this piece of information yet. Stiles began to walk away from her.

"Wait," she exclaimed, stopping him in his tracks. "How much am I worth?"

"Eight."

"Thousand?"

"Million." Stiles continued to walk away, but, before she was out of his hearing range, he heard her softly curse under her breath.

* * *

"Cell phones in the envelopes, everybody. You'll get them back after the test," said Ms. Martin.

"Please do not open the test booklet until you are instructed to do so," began the proctor of the exam. "This test is two hours and ten minutes. There will be two 25-minute critical reading sections, two 25-minute math sections and an essay writing portion that will last thirty minutes. There are supposed to be two teachers monitoring this exam."

"I know," replied Ms. Martin. "It's Coach. He's not exactly punctual. Um, let me just try him again." She walked outside to attempt to contact coach. Gabriella listened to her as she only pressed two buttons on her phone before walking away from the classroom door. Gabriella heard a door open and then close, followed by Ms. Martin speaking.

"Oh, no," Gabriella strained to hear the whispering of the teacher. "Hey, wake up. Oh, Bobby. Fifteen years sober and you fall off the wagon at school. Coach, look at me. It's Natalie. Forget it. I'll bring you some coffee during one of the breaks. Fifteen years, Bobby." Gabriella heard the door open and close again, and then the sharp footsteps of Ms. Martin heading their way. She entered the classroom again, facing herself toward the proctor.

"I can't find him," she told the proctor. "But Mr. Yukimura is upstairs grading papers. Do you want me to try him?"

"We have to start," he responded. "We can ask for his assistance during the first break." Ms. Martin looked downward as if she was being scolded. "You may now open your test booklets and begin."

Gabriella, opened her booklet, blocking out all distractions around her and focusing on the exam before her. She skimmed through the first text quickly, circling any words that caught her attention and any details that seemed significant to her.

"Over the course of the passage," she read in her head. "the main focus of the narrative shifts from the..." she quickly circled "B" and moved on to the next question. She knew that this test would not be difficult for her. Students would always freak out about it even though the results of this test were irrelevant. It would neither affect any grade nor be seen by colleges. It was simply meant to gauge what you needed to work on for the SAT's. Gabriella sighed.

"The description in the first paragraph indicates that what Ethan values most about Mattie is her..." Gabriella was prepared for these kinds of things. Having been raised the way that she was, there was never any room for failure—not even academically. She recalled how offended she was when Stiles did not expect her to be good at nor care about school. She circled "D" before switching her attention over to the boy. He looked frantic, with one pencil in either hand and another in his mouth. The one out of his mouth dropped and he looked down at the test with an open mouth. Gabriella figured that he was finding this exam much harder than she thought he would. But then again, she reminded herself, Stiles is not all that book smart, and he has a tendency to only learn about what he is interested in—like the supernatural.

Gabriella tried to shift her focus back on the exam, but was distracted by the heartbeat of the girl next to her. If her heart had been racing, Gabriella would not have questioned it, passing it off as nerves; but her heart rate was slower than it should have been, and Gabriella was starting to get worried for her. It was only a few seconds after that the girl fell from her desk, collapsing on the floor.

"Sydney," exclaimed Ms. Martin rushing over to the girl. "Are you alright?" she asked as she helped the girl up.

"I'm okay," said Sydney. "I just got kind of dizzy."

"Sydney, how long have you had this?" Gabriella tried to get a look at what Ms. Martin was referring to, but could not see.

"I don't know."

"Ms. Martin, do I need to stop the test?" questioned the proctor.

"No, umm, it's fine," said Ms. Martin, heading back toward the front of the room. "Everybody stay in your seats. I'll, um, be back in a minute." She turned to speak directly to the proctor. "Nobody leave the room." As Ms. Martin left the room, Gabriella felt on edge. She was running through possibilities, and could not help but feel that this may be a ploy by somebody who was trying to get a reward from the dead pool. She felt for the gun attached to the holster on her leg beneath her dress. She felt comforted by the weapon.

"Get back! No! Do not come in here! Get back outside!" Ms. Martin's shouting brought every student in the room to rise from their seats and walk out of the classroom.

"Back to your seats," stated Ms. Martin when she saw the students. "Now. Please." The students did as they were told, but Gabriella's cautiousness only grew. She may have been too anxious, but she knew that it was better to be that way than end up dead.

"I need the number of the CDC," Gabriella heard Ms. Martin say. Gabriella's eyes narrowed. "Yes, the Center for Disease Control." Gabriella looked over at Scott, knowing that he must have been listening too. If there was a highly contagious disease going around, she thought, this could only end in one of two ways: one, the supernatural here will be unaffected or heal from it in a way that the humans cannot; or, two, it will affect the supernatural more than the humans. And, if this was connected to the dead pool as she thought it was, this could easily be option number two.


	7. Chapter 6

A/N: One of the scenes in this chapter is a reference to a scene from a certain movie so props if you can figure it out!

* * *

November 29, 2002 [Age 7]

"Mommy?" asked a small girl with curly, unruly hair. She was sat on the lap of an older woman, though she still appeared to be young. Her hair was wavy, unlike that of her daughter's suggesting that it was a trait that she had received from her father. The mother was knitting something, it was still unrecognizable what it was; her daughter was playing with the ball of yarn that her mother was knitting from.

"Yes, Ella?" replied the mother.

"How come you never talk about daddy?" asked the small girl, looking up at her mother with big eyes.

"Because it makes me sad. I loved him so much, and I miss him so much."

"Is it ok if I miss him too? Even if I don't remember him."

"Yes, it's ok, sweetie. You have every right to miss him too." The young girl nods at her mother's words.

"Can you tell me a story about him?" she asked her mother. The woman stopped knitting, putting the tools of the trade aside, and moving her daughter to a more comfortable position.

"Let me tell you about the last day I saw him." Her daughter stared at her with big eyes, her full attention on her mother. "It was a warm day, in the middle of the spring. All the flowers were blooming and the birds were happily chirping around. I was walking around the town, running some errands, when your father came up to me. I wasn't all that surprised to see him since it was a fairly small town—and if you think it's small now, it was even smaller back then. He came up to me with his hands behind his back and kissed me. I felt him put something in my hair so when the kiss ended, I felt up to see that it was a flower.

"He asked me how I was, and I did the same. He asked me what I was doing, and I did the same. But I felt like there was something wrong with him. He seemed much more fidgety than usual; like he was nervous or anxious about something. I pestered him until he told me. He said that he had to leave. He embraced me very tightly—as if he needed me, as if he couldn't bear to live without me, as if he never wanted to let go. And in that moment I knew that I would never see him again. It lasted for minutes. When he let go, he gave me a long kiss laced with melancholy. He said a short goodbye and walked away. I was heartbroken, but I was too heartbroken to cry. I forced myself to finish my errands and went home. It wasn't until the next day that I found out that he had been killed. And that was when I finally broke down and cried. He sacrificed himself for the greater good; he died a hero. And it was only a few days after that that I found out that I was pregnant you.

"Sometimes I wonder if he would have stayed if only he knew that I was carrying his child." The girl didn't say anything as she watched the sadness engulf her mother's eyes. She wrapped her small arms around her mother's neck, engulfing her in a hug.

* * *

Saturday, January 21st, 2012

Gabriella watched the people in hazmat suits setting up all of their equipment. They were quarantining the people who had already shown signs of infection. She was fine for now and hoped that it stayed that way, but she knew that she would have to find someplace to hide just in case things took a turn for the worse, as she feared. All of the strangers in suits were too busy with their setting up to notice if one student was missing or not, so she used this as her opportunity to sneak away. She made her way to the boys' locker room, since it was closer than the girls', and sat herself on the floor of one of the showers. She buried her face in her knees, wrapping her arms around them and focusing on her breathing. She heard for some minutes Scott and some of the pack talking to each other; she assumed that it was about the virus, but she didn't care at the moment. She could feel something creeping up on her back, crawling up her spine, and had to focus solely on her current situation as to prevent herself from ripping the skin of her back off. After what felt like an eternity of restraining herself, but she was sure was probably only minutes, it was silent again. She felt nothing and could let herself breathe at a normal rate. She let her head fall back on her knees, digging her fingers into her hair, letting them get caught in the knots and tangles.

"Gabby!" she heard a familiar voice shout. She figured that she must have been hearing things, but then she heard the voice repeat itself. She raised her head to see a blurry figure; she rubbed her eyes and looked over at the figure again. This time it was clearer and she easily recognized it as her old friend.

"Manolo?" questioned Gabriella.

"Quién mas va a ser?" replied the figure. [Who else would it be?]

"It can't be you. You—you're gone."

"I came back for you." Gabriella shook her head.

"No. You wouldn't. That would compromise you. I could easily rat you out to the Calaveras."

"Except I know that you wouldn't do that," said Manolo. Gabriella pressed her lips against each other tightly, knowing that he was right. "I may have not seen you for a long time, but I still know my best friend. I know you wouldn't have changed that easily; not even with those monsters hounding you."

"They're not monsters!"

"Yes, they are. Look at what they did to you! What they did to every single person there. They call it training, but it should be called torture. How could I bear to continue watching you suffer like that?"

"But that's not why you left," hissed out Gabriella.

"No."

"You left because you couldn't handle it anymore. They didn't break me, but they broke you. You always told me how it hurt you to see me in pain, but you still left without saying goodbye, without even looking back at me. You cared so much that you abandoned me without batting an eye." Manolo stood silent for a while, before stepping closer to Gabriella, and kneeling before her.

"I left you behind because I knew you were strong and I was weak. I knew that you could handle it even without me there. I could not handle it even with your support. Like you said, they were able to break me." Gabriella felt tears began to emerge from her eyes. Manolo placed his hands on her cheeks.

"I don't understand why you continue to defend them. I'm not the bad guy here; the Calaveras are. They're not your family. Family doesn't hurt each other." Manolo placed his hands on her cheeks, but she felt nothing. Her tears immediately stopped.

"You're not real," she said softly, closing her eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"I can't feel you. You're not real. You're just in my head."

"I'm not. I'm here. Don't you believe that I would come back for you?

"You're just in my head."

"Please, Gabriella, listen to me."

"God, I'm so stupid to think that you would ever come back. You probably don't even remember that I exist anymore. Maybe you even think I'm dead. How would you have even got in here? The whole school is under quarantine. God, I'm so stupid."

"Gabriella, I do remember you. I miss you."

"You're just in my head."

"I love you."

"You're just saying the things that I want to hear."

"That's not true."

"You're just in my head." This time Gabriella was not met with a response. She opened her eyes to see that the apparition of her old friend was gone.

"God, that must be how this stupid virus is affecting me. It's going to drive me insane." Gabriella let her head fall against the cool tile wall. She was beginning to feel very exhausted from the mental strain that she had already dealt with. She wasn't sure if she could take much more.

"Oh, my baby," spoke a melodic voice to her right. Gabriella's eyes widened; she knew that voice more than anyone's because she held onto it as tightly as she could in her memories. She looked over to see a figure that resembled her mother in shape and size. Her hair fell over her shoulders in waves like she remembered that her mother's had, but the apparition had no face. Gabriella surmised that this was because she could never remember what her mother looked like; however, it was still a terrible sight to behold.

"Look at how far you've come. Look at how far you've fallen," she said. Gabriella gulped. Those words came with a heavy meaning even though the voice that had said it had done so lightly.

"I haven't. I'm still a good person; just like you raised me to be," said Gabriella. She knew that this was all in her head, just as Manolo had been, but she could not help but respond to the apparition.

"I tried to raise you to be that way, but my efforts seem to have been wasted. After all, you still became the monster you are today."

"I'm not a monster," Gabriella said, with uncertainty lacing her voice.

"Why do you think that I abandoned you? Why do you think that everyone leaves you behind? Sooner or later everyone realizes what a monster you are."

"I'm not," gasped Gabriella. She could feel herself beginning to panic.

"I always told you that you were just like your father. You're his splitting image; same hair, same eyes. And of course, you came out a monster just like he was."

"He wasn't. He couldn't have been. You told me you loved him."

"I lied. People lie all the time, sweetie. You should know that," said her mother gently. "That's why he died, of course." Gabriella could feel her heart rate start to pick up. Her breathing began to quicken; her chest constricted and she felt like it was going to cave in on her lungs.

"He was killed for being the monster that he was," continued her mother. "And the world is a better place without him. And it would be a better place without you too."

"No," whispered Gabriella, tears starting to peek out of her eyes. "I can't," she was speaking between short, strained breaths. "I'm not. Not a monster. He wasn't. Couldn't. I can't. Can't breathe." Gabriella struggled to pull herself up to her feet; she used the wall to support her, but it was difficult to grip onto the smooth tiles properly. She gradually made her way toward the shower's dials, forcing herself to steady her breath as much as possible. When she got to the dials she grabbed onto the one for hot water only, and turned it as much as she could. She gasped at the scalding water hitting her at full force, but then began to relax and catch her breath as the water sank into her skin and hair. She kept muttering to herself that none of it was real—that she was not a monster. What she was did not solely decide whether she was bad or good; it was her actions that did that. And Gabriella tried her best to do right by her mother. She knew that it wasn't her mother speaking, but her fear being voiced through her memories of her mother. She hissed. The memories of her were now tainted with this nightmare.

Gabriella sat under the scorching water for as long as she felt was necessary and she was unsure if that was a few minutes or closer to hours. Honestly, she didn't care. Once, she turned the water off, she sat against the tile wall again; this time, staying close by the shower dials. She closed her eyes, reveling in the peaceful silence that met her ears for as long as she could.

The silence, however, was ultimately interrupted by the sounds of footsteps across the locker room floor.

"Still a bit feverish, Mr. Stilinski," she heard the voice that she remembered belonged to the proctor of the exams. "But you should know something. The virus doesn't kill humans. You'll get better. So don't you think you should tell me where they are? Shouldn't one of you get to live?" Gabriella rushed out of the shower. She removed her shoes immediately knowing that they would make a noise against the floor because they were wet. She needed to make sure that she could be quiet. She needed to eliminate the threat.

"I think I saw them in the library," she heard Stiles say. "Or it might've been the cafeteria. It was definitely one of those two." She quickly crept over to the lockers toward the back of the locker room and hid behind them; her clothes and hair were dripping wet, and she was grateful that the perpetrator was not supernatural lest he hear the sound of the water droplets hitting the floor. She peered over them to see the proctor holding a gun, with a silencer attached to it, to the back of Stiles' head. Gabriella had to hold back a hiss. She wasn't sure why she felt so threatened by this. Yes, she was a hunter and she had a duty to protect the lives of the innocent and human, like Stiles, but this felt more personal. She knew that she did not want Stiles to die.

"I'm going to count to three and then I'm going to kill you," said the proctor. Stiles turned around to face the man. Gabriella began to make her way toward the man from behind him. She was silent as she walked forward, something that she knew she was good at.

"Think you can scare me?" asked Stiles before catching sight of Gabriella behind the proctor. Gabriella swiftly put her fingers to her lips to signal that he should be quiet. Stiles instantly averted his eyes back to the man before him so as not to cause suspicion that would make him look behind him.

"No, I think I can kill you. I just thought the countdown would make it more exciting. So..." begins the man as he presses the gun right against Stiles' forehead.

"One..." he counts. Gabriella is right behind him as he says this. She lifts her hands, ready to make her move.

"Two..." he says, but he doesn't continue any further because he is interrupted by Gabriella who grabs his arm, tilts it toward her, and grabs his wrist all in one fluid motion. The man has no time to react when he realizes that the girl is twisting his wrist so that the gun is now facing his own forehead.

"Three," she says as she pushes his finger causing him to pull the trigger. Some of the blood splashed backward at Gabriella and some of it forward at Stiles who stood there with wide eyes.

"I—I—" began Stiles, as he shifted his gaze to meet her eyes. He gasped. "Your eyes..." Gabriella's eyes widened, as she knew what he meant. He saw that her eyes were no longer brown, but now a bright green. They were practically glowing, and the pupils had narrowed into slits. They looked like a cat's eyes, thought Stiles. Gabriella closed her eyes, opening them again to reveal that they were once again brown.

"Someone's coming," she stated, listening to the footsteps getting closer. "Stay put. I'm going to go hide again. I think it's best if I stay away from people for now." She gave Stiles a small nod of the head before retreating back to the showers. Stiles' attention was diverted from watching her go to the figure that walked into the room wearing a hazmat suit. He realized after a few seconds that it was Mr. McCall.

"What happened here?" asked Mr. McCall

"I—uh—he—he shot himself," Stiles stuttered out, knowing better than to tell him the full truth since he wasn't informed about any of the supernatural on-goings of the town. "He said that he was the one who brought the virus in." Mr. McCall nodded in response.

"Listen, Stiles. I got a call from Melissa. I don't know what it means. She said there's an antidote. It's in a vault—reishi mushrooms."

"Wait, what in a vault?" Stiles stuttered out, he was finding it hard to breathe at the moment. Gabriella knew that he must've been in shock; and she wanted to go and comfort him, but she knew better than to give her presence away right now. She didn't know how the virus would continue to affect her, and she didn't need to be in a crowd of people if anything happened.

"It's in a jar on one of the shelves. She said to tell Scott. It's in the vault." Stiles immediately ran off after processing what Mr. McCall had told him.

* * *

Stiles felt relief wash over him as he saw the Hale vault door open to reveal that his friends were healing from the virus. After showing Scott his relief, by gripping onto his shoulder and patting his face, Stiles immediately rushed into the room. He saw the jar of the mushrooms, and rushed over to grab a handful of them. He ran out of the vault without explaining anything to his friends; he knew that they were now well and could handle themselves. Gabriella, however, was still infected, and, if his friends were any indication, her condition was worsening by the minute. He had no time to waste; this girl had saved his life so he couldn't just let her die—she didn't deserve to die; she had proven that much to him.

He dashed into the locker room, hurrying toward the showers where he had seen her retreat to. He saw her lying on the floor in a fetal position; her eyes were closed and her breathing was ragged. Stiles hoped that he wasn't too late.

He kneeled down beside her, grabbing only a small portion of the mushrooms at first; he noticed, however, that she was much too weak to take them from him herself. He gulped as he opened her mouth carefully, placing the mushrooms into her mouth. Her brows furrowed as she felt the foreign taste hit her tongue.

"This will heal you," said Stiles. "Please eat it." Gabriella tried her hardest to chew the mushrooms up, but she was much too weak to chew properly. Stiles' heart dropped as he saw this. He couldn't let her die. He wouldn't let her die. He gulped before pushing her over so that she was lying on her back. He used his fingers to push her mouth open, pulling the mushrooms out of her mouth. He placed those pieces on the floor next to him and grabbed some more from his hand; he put those in his own mouth chewing them up, cringing at their bitterness. When he felt that those pieces were thoroughly chewed, he pressed his lips against hers. Since her mouth was already slightly agape, the mushrooms easily fell into her own mouth; not needing to use the little strength that she had to chew them anymore, she used it instead to swallow the mashed pieces. Swallowing hurt, but it required a lot less energy than chewing. Stiles placed another piece into his mouth, chewing it up and repeating the process over again. He thought about how soft her lips were, and he remembered the kiss that they had shared a few days back. He felt guilty for his thoughts because he was thinking about these things while the girl in front of him was dying.

After swallowing the mushrooms for the second time, her breathing began to even out. She wasn't straining to breathe anymore and, after a moment, her eyes fluttered open to look up at her savior. She smiled weakly at him, unable to find much strength left in herself. For a split second Stiles thought about Malia and what she would think of all this, of their previously shared kiss, about her; but then he noticed how soft Gabriella's eyes looked as they gazed at him. She may not have been able to speak, but her eyes communicated everything that she wanted to say; they showed appreciation and gratefulness, and Stiles felt his heart flutter as he thought, that in the moment, she looked so damn beautiful; even with her hair in a mess, sprawled against her clothes; even with her clothes soaked and sweat dripping down her forehead. And he couldn't help the guilt once again because he had never felt this way with Malia.

Gabriella was grateful—grateful and relieved that she wasn't going to die. She didn't expect Stiles to go these lengths to save her life; after all, he didn't trust her nor seem to like her all that much. She felt her heart flutter a bit; she meant enough to someone that they were able to believe that she did not deserve to die. She meant enough to someone that they would try with all their might to save her. And it felt so foreign to her; she couldn't really remember a time that she had felt like this. Maybe back when she was living with her mother, but definitely nothing since then; definitely not when she was living with the Calaveras. It was a different feeling, but it was a good feeling, and Gabriella, let her muscles relax because, for once, she felt safe. Her thoughts were interrupted as she heard other people walk into the room, but she was much too exhausted to pay much attention to what was happening.

* * *

The werewolf, werecoyote and kitsune that had been locked in the vault were bewildered at Stiles' sudden departure so they decided to follow him. He wasn't difficult to find with their enhanced senses of smell; and they were surprised at what they found: one Stiles Stilinski kneeling by a certain huntress, with a few mushrooms in his hands which they all assumed was left over from what he must have given her. They didn't understand why Stiles, the most skeptical out of all of them about the Calavera, would be so urgent to save her life.

And while the werewolf and kitsune stood in confusion, the werecoyote was seething with rage. Not only, had her boyfriend been lying to her about the dead pool and her true parentage (and she wholly believed that withholding the truth is just as bad as lying), but he had not even bothered to check on her state after she had been healed from the virus; instead he had decided to rush out and save this other girl who she neither liked not trusted. They had gotten off to a bad start, and the coyote was not one whose mind could be easily changed about a person. The three watched Stiles as he helped the huntress up, assisting her to lean against the wall so that she could hold herself up. He continued to stand behind her in case she suddenly fell, since he could tell that she was still very weak. He was so focused on the huntress that he was surprised as the sound of flesh hitting flesh resounded throughout the room. His head had jerked to the side, and her turned it forward again to see an angry Malia standing before him. She was growling lowly as he began to feel the sting on his cheek. He let a look of confusion engulf his face as she stormed out of the room.

"What did I do?" asked Stiles.


	8. Chapter 7

Sunday, April 30th, 2002 [age 6]

They were going to a carnival and boy was Gabriella excited. She couldn't help the huge grin adorning her face at the thought of going to her first ever carnival. She kept her small hand safely tucked within her mother's larger one. She skipped with every step, unable to fully contain her excitement.

"Cálmate," said her mother. [Calm down]

"I can't," whined the small girl. "I can't deal with how excited I am!" The girl's eyes widened in wonder as she saw people wandering around wearing colorful costumes with feathers and lace and flowers; she saw a group of dancers wearing skirts made of grass and belts made from the dried leaves of palm trees. There were stands set up on the sides of the road that the carnival was taking place on; she saw other children playing games and hugging closely small prizes of balls and spinning tops and slinkies. She could smell all different kinds of foods—mole poblano, tamales, barbacoa.

"What do you want to do first?" asked Gabriella's mother. Gabriella's scanned everything. She couldn't decide. Everything looked so fun that she wished she could do it all at once. Her eyes settled on a small ride, one of the few that the festival had—it was like a carousel in that it spun, but instead of sitting atop horses the kids were sitting in teacups that not only spun around the area of the ride, but also spun in place. Gabriella had never seen such a thing in her life.

"That one!" she shouted pointing at the teacup ride for her mother to see.

"Alright," said her mother with a gentle smile on her face. "Let's go then." She allowed her daughter to guide her over to the ride eagerly; a slight sadness filled her heart as she remembered that she didn't have much time left with her daughter.

* * *

Saturday, January 21st – Sunday, January 22nd, 2012

Stiles Stilinski tossed and turned in bed, trying to find a comfortable position, but he felt odd without the warmth of another body beside him, as he had grown accustomed to. He turned so that his back was against the wall and stared at the spot where Malia would have been. He blinked, and suddenly she was there. He didn't think twice about what was happening, moving closer to the werecoyote.

"What?" asked Malia.

"I was sleeping in the middle of the bed," replied Stiles.

"Not anymore."

"Turn around," he told her, wrapping his arm around her and letting her head lay against his chest. After a moment, Stiles sat up, uncomfortable with the position.

"I can't sleep unless I'm in the middle," he said.

"Then we spoon," was Malia's response. They readjusted themselves so that Stiles' body was encasing Malia's.

"What now?" asked Malia, irritated.

"My arm's falling asleep," said Stiles. Malia pushed the boy away, and they lay back to back.

"Well, I don't like this," complained Stiles.

"I'ma kill you," said Malia.

"I know. I know. I'm sorry." The two turned around to face each other, before Malia began readjusting them.

"Ok," she said as she moved Stiles to face away from her, "just come here." This time, Malia was the one encasing Stiles' body.

"I think this is good," said Stiles. "Yeah, this is good." Stiles blinked and suddenly there were no arms wrapped around his. He sat up to see that there was no Malia by his side. And it was then that he realized that he had been dreaming. He huffed as he turned to face the wall, allowing himself to slowly drift back to sleep.

As soon, as the boy fell asleep, a thin, tawny-yellow cat slipped in through the open window. It didn't make a sound as it's padded fit hit the floor. Its fur was a darker shade in certain areas, with black rings enclosing these blotches. In a way, they resembled spots. The cat's eyes glowed as it jumped onto the bed beside the boy, making sure that he did not awaken. The bed shifted, slightly as a girl with tan skin and curly hair replaced the cat. She quietly slipped off her shoes as she heard him muttering in his sleep, suggesting that whatever he was dreaming about was not pleasant. She was careful as she lay down beside him, pressing herself against his back. She wrapped one arm around him, extending silver claws from her fingers and placing them on the boy's chest. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, and she found herself suddenly in a blindingly white room, with white lights shining above her. She looked around and spotted a door to her left. She walked toward it, not thinking twice as she placed her hand on the doorknob and turned it. On the other side of the door, she saw a room that seemed pitch black in comparison to the room behind her. She stepped inside fully, letting the door shut softly behind her. She didn't need to wait for her eyes to adjust; the room became clearer as her pupils contracted into thin slits.

It was a cluttered room that appeared to be a basement. There were boxes and random items scattered around the floor. Across the room from her was a couch, worn out and torn in some places. Stiles was standing in front of this couch, his hand gripping onto Malia's wrist tightly. Malia let out a growl as she used her enhanced strength to easily pull away from Stiles' grip. She walked away from him without even looking back, leaving Stiles behind with a heartbroken face, his arm reaching out for her. As Stiles finally dropped his arm to rest by his side again, a voice began to whisper behind.

"What is something you will never see again?" the voice rose in volume with every word. Stiles immediately tensed at the sound of the voice.

"What is something you will never see again?" the voice repeated itself. It was deep, but it was scratchy, and left a haunting feeling behind it. "Tell me, Stiles, what it something you will never see again?"

"He's not here. He's not here," Stiles began muttering to himself. "This is just a dream. This is just a dream."

"This isn't a dream. Did you really think that you could escape me that easily?"

"This isn't real. This can't be real. You died," said Stiles.

"Don't you know by now to never trust a trickster." Stiles remained silent at the words reverberating throughout the room. "What is something you will never see again?" Stiles continued to remain silent. "Answer me, Stiles!" shouted the voice. "What is something you will never see again?" Stiles' breathing grew ragged as the voice continued to speak. Stiles couldn't stop himself as he slowly let out an answer, pausing after each syllable.

"Malia," he said.

"Wrong answer, Stiles!" shouted the voice. "Try again. What is something you will never see again?" Stiles shook his head in response. "Just answer me, Stiles."

"Yesterday," he whispered.

"Yes. Now turn around, Stiles." Stiles shook his head again at the command. "Turn around." Stiles still refused to listen. "Turn around!" Stiles gulped as he aloud himself to turn around, but, instead of seeing the figure that he expected to see, he was greeted with the sight of food and game stands and a giant Ferris wheel to the distance. Carnival music played all around him, leaving the boy confused. A finger poked his shoulder causing him to quickly swivel around. He halted as he came face to face with Gabriella.

"What are you doing just standing there?" she questioned. "There are games waiting to be played and food waiting to be eaten." She grabbed his wrist, pulling him toward the stand closest to them.

"What—what's going on?" asked Stiles.

"Well, you're dreaming that you're at a carnival with me. Isn't that obvious?"

"Why would I be dreaming about that?"

"Why not? Look, don't think too much about it. It's a dream so enjoy it. Now, let's play some games." The pair walked up to a stand; behind it stood Melissa McCall with a bright smile on her face.

"Step on up," she said. "All you have to do to win a prize is hit these glass bottles behind me with this bibi gun." She hands Stiles the gun. "The three rows of bottles are each worth different points. The row closest to you is worth three for each bottle hit; the one in middle is worth five and the one farthest from you is worth seven." The three rows were arranged so each line of bottles was in a diagonal line making it possible to hit the bottles on each row. "Your aim is to score of at least twenty one points in five shots." Gabriella's eyes scanned all the prizes displayed in the stand. A grin breaks out on her face as she spots a specific prize sitting a top one of the shelves.

"I see the perfect prize for you," she said to Stiles. "So go ahead and win this thing." Stiles nodded, unsure if he could win, but not wanting to let the girl beside him down. He gripped the gun tightly, tensing up his muscles, and set his aim on one of the bottles in the last row. His hands were trembling slightly as he furrowed his brow in concentration. He pulled the trigger and missed.

"Oh, hun," said Melissa. "Maybe you should try hitting one of the ones in the front rows first." Stiles looked at her, nodding his head slightly. He switched his aim to one of the bottles that were closer to him repeating the same process as before. Disappointment washed over him as he missed again.

"I'm sorry," said Stiles, lowering the gun and turning to face Gabriella. "I can't win it for you."

"Nonsense," she said. "You got this." Stiles shook his head in response, averting his eyes from hers.

"The only way to win now is to get all three remaining shots to hit the bottles on the last row. I can't even hit the ones in the front," he said. Gabriella walked over to him, placing her hands on either of his shoulders to turn him around to face the targets again.

"Let me help you," she said, position herself right behind him. She pushed his arms upwards by his wrists so they were held straight in front of him.

"First of all," she began, "don't hold your arms straight like that. Bend them slightly at the elbow so that there's some flexibility." She ran her hand from under his wrist, up his harm so that they rested below his elbows, and proceeded to push upward on them so that they became slightly bent. Stiles repressed a shiver at the feel of her soft hands running against his skin.

"Also, your hand positioning is all wrong," she says placing her hands over Stiles' so she can work to rearrange them. She pries his fingers from the grip of the gun, holding it in place with one hand. Using her other hand, she places Stiles' right hand back on the gun's grip with the proper positioning—his fingers wrapped around the front of the grip; she moves his index finger to rest against the side of the gun's barrel and his thumb to wrap around the back of the grip. She moves her focus to his left hand, bringing it up and enfolding his fingers over the other fingers that are wrapped around the from of the grip. She slid his left thumb over so that it lay right against the right one. Stiles gulped as her hands moved across his. Her touch was gentle—nothing like Malia's.

"Now, your stance is horrendous. First of all, your feet need to be parallel to each other and in line with your shoulders," she said. Stiles shifted so that his legs were positioned in the way that she said that they should be. "And bend your legs slightly," she continued as she used her knees to hit the backs of his making his knees bend; he thought he was going to fall at the sudden impact, but her hands held him in place, lifting his until his knees were bent the right amount.

"Alright," she said. "Now you are ready. She pressed against his back more, wrapping her against his so that she could aim for him. Stiles's muscles tensed as he felt her head rest against his shoulder, her breath inevitably right next to his ear. "Relax," she whispered, causing a shiver to run through Stiles' spine. She smirked, content with the response that she evoked in him. Stiles took a deep breath, forcing his muscles to do as she said. She moved his right index finger to the trigger, aimed, and pushed back on it, allowing the pellet to fly. It successfully hit one of the bottles on the last row.

"That's 7 points!" exclaimed Melissa with a smile on her face. Gabriella proceeded to shoot two more bottles on the last row. "27 points!" said Melissa. "Which prize would you like?"

"Oh!" exclaimed Gabriella with a bright smile on her face. She removed herself from behind Stiles and walked closer to the booth to point upward at her desired prize. Stiles exhaled shakily, lowering his arms. He walked up to the booth placing the bibi gun on it and looked over to see what the prize that Gabriella had wanted was. He saw a hat in her hands, one of the ones that Sherlock Holmes was always depicted wearing. She walked up to him with a grin and placed the hat on his head.

"What are—," he began, but she effectively cut him off.

"You're a detective so you need a detective hat," she said.

"I'm not a detective," he muttered.

"Yes, you are. You're the one always figuring things out for the pack so detective." Before he could respond she dragged him over to the next booth.

"Hey, guys," said Chris from behind the booth that they had approached. "All you have to do here is hit three of these targets with this ball," he said holding up a softball. "You only have five turns."

"Ooh!" exclaimed Stiles. "I played softball in junior high!"

"Really?" said Gabriella.

"Yeah." Stiles picked up one of the balls, pulling his arm back. He stuck his tongue out slightly as he aimed at the target. He let the ball fly, hitting one of the targets perfectly.

"Whoo! Go Stiles!" cheered Gabriella. Stiles moved on to throw two more balls, hitting three targets in three turns.

"Oh, you're really good at this," said Gabriella.

"Good job, Stiles. You win a prize. What would you like?" Stiles looked over at Gabriella.

"You should pick," he told her.

"No. You won this one all by yourself so it's your decision to make," she responded. Stiles sighed unsure of what to choose. His eyes looked over all the prizes stopping at the sight of a small plush. "That one," he said, pointing at it for Chris to see. Chris nodded. He grabbed it and handed it over to Stiles who then walked over to Gabriella and handed to her.

"The Joker? What if I don't like him?" questioned Gabriella.

"You quoted "The Dark Knight" on the first day of school," replied Stiles.

"You, good sir, are right. I love Joker. I don't even like Batman that much, but I love the series mostly because of the Joker."

"What? How can you like him more than Batman?"

"I take it you're a huge Batman fan?" she asked. Stiles nodded. "Batman is cool, but I think Joker is way cooler. I just love his attitude. His "I'm gonna do shit just because I feel like it" attitude. He's a villain that doesn't do it for the money or the power. He just wants to cause pure anarchy."

"But anarchy isn't a good thing," said Stiles. "People need to be kept in order so that the peace can be kept. People need to follow rules."

"You have all these rules and you think they'll save you," began Gabriella.

"Did you just quote "The Dark Knight" again?" asked Stiles. Gabriella smirked at him.

"Come on, let's actually go on a ride," she said, grabbing on to his wrist once again. "Oh, there's the teacup ride!" she exclaimed while pointing to the aforementioned ride.

"That's a kid's ride," said Stiles.

"There's no such thing! It's my favorite ride!"

"Alright, alright," conceded Stiles. As they got to the ride they saw that it was already moving, but there was no one around to stop the ride and let them on.

"How are we supposed to get on?" questioned Stiles.

"We," began Gabriella, gripping onto the edge of the fence surrounding the ride, "just get on!" She hoisted herself over the fence landing on the spinning floor of the ride. She walked over to one of the oversized teacups, which wasn't too difficult since the ride wasn't moving too quickly, and hopped into the teacup, taking a seat and looking over at Stiles expectantly. Stiles sighed, opting to walk over to the gate's door, opening it to step onto the ride. He found it a bit difficult to keep his balance at first; it wasn't spinning fast, but it was very different from the still ground that he had just been standing on. He made his way over to the teacup that Gabriella was sitting on and took a seat himself.

"That wasn't so hard," stated Gabriella.

"A lot of work for this silly ride," muttered Stiles.

"It's not silly!" Stiles raised an eyebrow at her.

"You really like this ride, don't you?" he asked. Gabriella sighed.

"I've only been to a carnival once in my life. This was my favorite ride when I went; I got to ride it with my mother." Gabriella's face darkened slightly as she spoke. Stiles put his hand on hers comfortingly.

"I know what it's like to lose your mother," he said. Gabriella looked up at him, and Stiles could see from her eyes that she had questions running through her mind; but he could also tell that she wasn't going to pry. "She passed away when I was eight years old," he began. "I was in the room when it happened." Gabriella's eyes held understanding rather than the pity that he was used to seeing. She understood what it was like to lose someone, and she understood what it was like to watch someone die. She slipped her hand away from his, and shifted over toward Stiles so that she could wrap her arms around his neck, embracing him. Stiles wrapped his arms around her in response; this was the first comforting hug that he had had in a while—the last one that he could remember was with Scott when he was getting the MRI. They pulled away from each other after a moment, sliding their arms down, and letting their hands rest on top of each other between them.

"Gabriella," started Stiles, but she cut him off.

"You can call me Ella," she said. "If you want," she made sure to add at the end. Stiles nodded.

"Ella," he continued. "Do you think your mother would be proud of who you are now? I'm not sure mine would be." Gabriella was caught off-guard by the question.

"I—I don't think my mother would be too proud of me; I don't think she would like that I am a Calavera and that I live this dangerous lifestyle; but knowing how she was I know that she would still have supported me through everything. I'm sure your mother also loved you like that so I'm sure she would be really proud of you—especially for being able to survive through all this supernatural crap without dying while still remaining a human; I, myself, think that's highly impressive." Stiles smiled softly at her; a slight blush graced his cheeks at the subtle compliment. He looked down at their touching hands, and he thought about how weird all of this was—what a weird dream he was having. As he tilted his head back up, he was met by her stare. She was staring at him intently, her pupils not once darting away from his face. He couldn't help, but hold her gaze. Her eyes were brown, dull in color, but the emotions that he could see playing across them made them appear vibrant. She was such an enigma to him—every time he thought that he finally understood who she was, he proved him otherwise. It seemed like she would never be within his grasp. She was a hunter, but he had known her to be kind; he had known her to be thoughtful and caring; but he knew that if she had to she would kill Scott without a moment's hesitation. He knew that he couldn't let himself think of her as a friend—she was the enemy. She was dangerous and she should be kept at an arms length; but Stiles wanted to hold her close. He watched her head move slightly as he shoulders rose and fell with every breath. He looked at her lips, slightly parted, and he thought about the kiss that they had shared not long ago. He wanted to feel them against his again.

"I know what you're thinking," she said.

"Huh?" voiced Stiles before he felt her lips softly glide against his. His eyes widened and then drifted shut as she pressed them against his. He thought about Malia again. Was it wrong to dream about kissing another girl? It was just a dream, after all. He would never really act on a dream, right? Stiles let his thoughts disappear as he became engulfed in happy thoughts—just like the last time they had kissed. He could smell freshly mowed grass, reminding him of that one summer he and Scott tried to make money by mowing their neighbors' grass. He heard the crackling of a campfire, drowning out the frightening sounds of a forest at night. He felt goose bumps run up and down his arms, but they were the good kind. He tasted the sweetness of warm cinnamon rolls, like his mother used to make on snowy, winter mornings. And, once again, he felt his anxiety ease and a wave of tranquility set over him. He sighed contentedly as she pulled away. He wanted to keep kissing her.

"This doesn't feel like a dream," said Stiles. "This feels too real." Gabriella simply smiled in response. She placed her hands on either side of Stiles' face, pressing the top of her nose against the tip of his.

"It's time for you to wake up, Stiles," she said gently.

* * *

Stiles' eyes fluttered open. He furrowed his brows as he thought about what a strange dream he had had. It took him a moment before he realized that there was something warming his back. He thought at first that maybe it was Malia—maybe she had come after all and crawled into bed quietly not wanting to wake him up. However, when he looked down at the hand placed upon his chest, he was confused when he saw claws coming out of those hands; claws that were shiny and silver—those were not Malia's claws. He immediately jumped upward, pushing whoever it was out of the bed and onto the floor.

"Ow!" he heard a voice say softly. He looked over to see Gabriella on the floor, on her back, holding her upper body up above the floor by her elbows.

"What the hell are you doing in my bed?!" he shouted. Gabriella stared at him unwaveringly, but did not answer his question. "I guess you were just being a creep then," muttered Stiles.

"I was trying to help!" she cried out, glaring at him. She was offended at his accusation.

"How is sneaking into my room, and climbing into bed with me helping?!"

"You had a good dream, didn't you?" she asked with a sigh. She forced herself up from the floor, refusing to look at Stiles and letting her eyes wander around his room instead taking in every detail.

"You were in it, which was weird. It was a weird dream, but it didn't feel like a dream."

"Because it was and wasn't a dream."

"What?"

"You wanted to know what I was, right—why I'm on the dead pool?" said Gabriella.

"Yes."

"I'm a Pesanta—we're a bloodline technically, hailing from Spain; we're all born this way—no being turned like werewolves or kanimas. We're best known for our ability to enter people's subconscious; though, in lore we're only known for causing nightmares. I prefer to chase away nightmares. I saw you were having one so I thought that I'd help."

"Oh," was all Stiles said at her first. Gabriella remained silent knowing that she needed to give him some time to process everything that he had just told her. He got up from the bed; he grabbed some clothes, leaving the room to go change. Gabriella was concerned as to how Stiles would ultimately react to what he had just learned. She didn't expect him to think of her as a monster seeing as he was best friends with a werewolf, but she couldn't shake that fear out of her heart since he seemed to already think of her as one. She was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't hear him walk back into the room. He stood in the doorway, watching her for a moment. She had taken a seat on his bed after he had gone out. She was staring down at the floor, her fingers tapping nervously against her legs. He wasn't sure what to think—she was supposed to be the enemy, or at least he thought that she was, but she had been treating him kindly all this time, and now she had even gone out of her way to help him with something like this.

"Thank you, Ella," he said to her. Gabriella quickly looked up at him and wondered how long he had been standing there. Stiles saw her shoulders relax as if she had been tense this entire time waiting for him to say something. Gabriella felt her heart lighten as he not only thanked her, but decided to keep calling her by that nickname. The tension in the room eased and a comfortability settled between the two of them, but they were snapped back into the real world, by the sound of a ringing phone. It was Stiles' and he picked it up after the second ring.

"Scott?" he questioned.

"Stiles, I need you to come over, right now," said Scott. Gabriella could hear what he was saying clearly; her hearing was enhanced just like a werewolf's.

"What? What's going on?"

"We have a plan to figure out who the benefactor is."

"Alright. I'll be there ASAP. Give me like five minutes." Stiles ended the call and looked over at Gabriella; she smiled at him.

"Don't get a speeding ticket," she said as she got up from the bed. Stiles now understood that she was supernatural, but he was still taken aback when he saw her shift into a cat right before his eyes. It was quick, so quick that he thought that he would have missed it if he had blinked a second later—it was nothing like a werewolf's shift. The cat looked over at him with bright green eyes. She let out a small mew, before padding over to the window and jumping on top of the windowsill gracefully. She gave one last look back at Stiles and swished her tail, before jumping out of the window and onto the roof so that she could make her way out of the house.

"You could have just used the door!" shouted Stiles after her.

* * *

A/N: Gabriella shifts into an ocelot, which is a wild feline native to Central America, which is the region where Mexico is. It's the size of an average house cat.


	9. Chapter 8

Friday, July 17th, 2009 [age 13]

The slim, toned girl felt her skin rub against the metal floor as she slid across the room. It hurt, but she knew that other things hurt worse. She saw her gun remain on the floor where she had been just moments before. She got up as quickly as she could so she could get to the gun, but as soon as she got herself on her feet, she saw a foot stepping on the gun.

"Come on, Gabriella," said a voice that held a think accent. Gabriella's eyes locked with pale, grey ones. Araya had assigned the woman in front of her to be exclusively Gabriella's mentor. "When will you learn? By now I would've killed you. I shouldn't have even been able to take the gun from you. You're stronger than me—supernaturally stronger than me. I shouldn't have been able to make you budge let alone fling you across the room like a rag doll." Gabriella didn't respond. She continued to stare at the woman as she took deep, heavy breaths.

"Alright," said the woman. "How about we try this instead: since you're weaponless, you'll have to come at me with your strength and your claws. Don't hold back because I won't be either." The woman removed the safety from her gun, and aimed it at Gabriella. "And don't think I'm bluffing because I know that you can heal." Gabriella looked at the woman with pleading eyes. She didn't want to do this. She didn't want to be there. She didn't want to be in pain. But most of all, she didn't want to have to use her abilities. She wanted to be human, not some freak or monster or secret weapon. She felt a sharp tingle as a bullet grazed her shoulder. Her mentor was not happy with her student's lack of movement.

"You better move if you want to live, kitten," said the woman as she fired another shot at the teenage girl.

* * *

Sunday, January 22nd, 2012

"So," began Stiles as he entered Scott's house and closed the door behind him. He didn't see Scott at first, but he heard the werewolf call his name from the kitchen. He made his way to the aforementioned room and saw Scott, Liam and Kira already standing there.

"Was I the last one called or something?" asked Stiles.

"I think I just got here faster," shrugged Liam. Kira didn't say anything, but she looked away from Stiles and blushed. Stiles looked over at Scott raising his eyebrows.

"So why am I here?" asked Stiles. "It's way too early to be awake on a Sunday so you better have a really good reason."

"We have a plan to catch the benefactor," said Scott.

"Is it a good plan?" asked Stiles in a doubtful tone.

"It's dangerous," said Kira.

"Crazy dangerous," added Liam.

"Ok, he already knows about the plan? I'm starting to feel like the second fiddle here," Stiles sighed. "So what's the plan?" Stiles' hands were inside his pockets so no one could see how badly he was fidgeting with them. He kept shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He felt so anxious being there. He just wanted to leave. He wanted to go back home to his warm bed and to that wonderful dream that he had been having. Or did that even qualify as a dream? He definitely wanted to ask Gabriella more questions about what she was. In fact, Stiles didn't want to admit it yet, but, in fact, he hoped that she would return later that night. If the dream, and what had happened between the two of them in it, wasn't really a dream—if it was real, then he definitely wanted her to come back. Then he would have more than enough time to ask her all the questions that he wanted to.

"Stiles!" he heard Scott shout.

"What?" questioned Stiles.

"Were you even listening?" asked Scott. Stiles blinked rapidly realizing that he had not, in fact, been paying attention.

"Umm..." hesitated Stiles. "Something about you and catching the benefactor?" Scott gave Stiles a questioning look before explaining the plan again.

"Kira's going to use her powers," he began again, "and electrocute my heart, which will put me in a death-like state, and then we'll send out a message to the benefactor saying that I was killed. Having me in that state will mean that we'll have the proof that the benefactor needs."

"Now, that would be a good plan if I and a bunch of other people didn't value your life. What the hell are you thinking?" exclaimed Stiles. "You could actually die!"

"I won't."

"You don't know that! Gambling with money is one thing, but with your life? You're being ridiculous and stupid."

"No. Kira's going to bring me back."

"Is that supposed to be comforting?"

"Yea. I trust her—with my life."

"She barely even knows how to use her powers!"

"Kira's mom is coming to help us."

"So much for adults being the responsible ones," mumbled Stiles.

"Look, I'm going to go through with this plan whether you agree with it or not; so you can either decide to walk out or stay here and help." Stiles huffed, turning his face away from Scott. "All we have to do now," began Scott, "is wait for Kira's mom to arrive."

Now that everyone was up to date with the information, they, separately, tried to find something to keep themselves occupied while they waited. Stiles took a seat on one of the chairs at the kitchen table. He caught movement at one of the windows in his peripheral vision. He turned his head to get a better look and noticed a spotted cat with green eyes staring into the room. He thought that it looked familiar. He locked eyes with the cat and realized that it looked exactly like the cat that Gabriella had shifted to earlier that morning. She must have been listening in to their conversation. She turned around, flicking her tail toward him before jumping down from the outdoor windowsill and out of his sight.

She had been listening in—Stiles couldn't get past that. How could he have forgotten who—what—she was. He started to bounce his leg up and down rapidly. His thoughts began to race in all different direction. She was a Calavera—a hunter. She was sent here to spy on Scott as she had just been doing. She was sent here to kill him if necessary and he knew that she could if she needed to. She would willingly kill his best friend—the person that he had come to think of as a brother. She was supposed to be their enemy. Was he so weak that the moment that she showed him an ounce of kindness he lost all of his doubt of her? What if all of this was a ploy? What if she was just trying to get close to him in order to make her job easier? But, then again, she never really even brought Scott up and he knew that he himself didn't really have anything to do with her mission. And why would she use him to get to Scott when it seemed like she could so easily watch him from afar. Of course, that brought up the question of disclosing information. That is, shouldn't Stiles tell his best friend that someone who may want to kill him can turn into a cat and has been spying on him that way? All of Stiles' previous joy had dissipated. Now he was in a state of confusion and uneasiness. His mind was tugging at him left and right.

"Dude, what's wrong?" Stiles was snapped out of his thoughts by Scott's inquiry. Stiles stilled his leg and looked around the room to see that Liam and Kira were no longer there.

"What?" replied Stiles. "Nothing."

"I know something's wrong. You're acting jumpier than usual. You keep zoning out, and I can smell the anxiety coming off of you."

"I thought I told you to stop monitoring my emotions," chastised Stiles. Scott sent him a look that communicated to Stiles that he knew that Stiles was trying to avoid the conversation. Stiles sighed.

"It's nothing, really," said Stiles, stressing out the last word.

"You know I can also hear when you're lying."

"Alright. It's this whole plan of yours. It's worrying me."

"It's not that either. You've been acting like this since you walked into the house."

"Since when have you been this observant?"

"Since I got super senses," said Scott. Stiles rolled his eyes at him.

"It doesn't matter. You wouldn't understand," said Stiles.

"I'm your best friend. Is it Malia?"

"No. Actually, it's," Stiles paused as he hesitated to continue, "it's Gabriella." Scott raised his eyebrows questioningly at Stiles' words. "She came into my room last night." Scott immediately got defensive. He looked like he was ready to pounce at any moment—on what, Stiles wasn't sure.

"Did she try to hurt you?" asked Scott.

"No. She tried to help me. Well, not try. She did help me."

"How?" inquired Scott as he relaxed himself.

"I couldn't sleep well last night. I was having nightmares since Malia wasn't there with me. She—Gabriella, that is, came into my room at some point last night. I didn't realize she had until I woke up this morning and found her, uh, spooning me."

"Dude, that's beyond creepy."

"Yea, I guess, kinda. But the thing is she did that to help me. You know how she's on the dead pool, right?" Scott nodded in response to Stiles' question. "So she told me that what she is, her powers, allows her to enter people's subconscious; which means that she can enter dreams and alter them. She did that for me and turned my nightmare into a dream—a really good one."

"Why would she do that?"

"I don't really know," said Stiles honestly. "But I don't think that she's as bad as I originally thought."

"She's a hunter."

"I know, but there's something about her. I don't think that she's like the other Calaveras. You know that not all hunters are bad." Scott's demeanor shifted as Stiles' words brought up thoughts of his first love, Allison.

"Allison was a special case," said Scott, his voice a bit harsher than it had previously been. "She wasn't raised to be a killer. She didn't have their logic drilled into her head since she was a child."

"That doesn't mean that Ella can't be like that!" Stiles' voice rose slightly. He wasn't sure why he was getting so defensive.

"Ella?" questioned Scott. Stiles gulped realizing that his slip up was going to cost him—why had he said that? It's not like he was accustomed to calling her by that name.

"We spent some time together in my dream. I mean, I didn't know that it was really her until I woke up and she explained everything to me. She told me that I could call her that."

"I told you not to be so paranoid about her, but I didn't mean go and become best friends with her. Next thing I know, you'll be sleeping with her too!" Their conversation was interrupted before Stiles could send a retort Scott's way. They heard Kira opening the door for her mother. Stiles was enraged at the turn that the conversation had taken, but he also felt relieved that he would not have to continue it. He knew that he had to get his thoughts in order, and that he had to do it soon.

* * *

"Come on, come on. Answer the phone," said Stiles to himself as he paced back and forth inside the room that was known as Beacon Hills Hospital's morgue. "Answer the phone, Argent. Come on. Come on, Argent, answer the phone. Why are you not answering the phone?" The lights flickered above, casting shadows over Stiles' face and giving the room an eerie atmosphere. Stiles turned his head toward the door as he heard it open. He was greeted with the sight of Gabriella walking toward him.

"Wha—what are you doing here?" he asked, frazzled.

"Looking for you," she said. "I followed your scent here. There are berserkers roaming this hospital and you've got neither claws nor fangs. Do you expect me to just walk right on by and let you get smashed to tiny, unrecognizable pieces that they'll have to peel off of the walls and floors for days?"

"Ok. First of all, there was no need for all of that imagery."

"And secondly?"

"Do you know where Argent is?"

"Chris?" asked Gabriella. "Well, I smell his scent headed this way—pretty quickly too. Give it a couple of seconds." Just as expected, a few moments later the door's swung open as Chris Argent was fling into the room.

"I was right. Stiles, get out of here," said Chris, his face contorted in pain. Stiles looked over at Gabriella to gauge her response to the situation. She was a seasoned hunter so he figured that he could trust what she decided to do. He saw her tensed up. Her loose-fitting shirt was slightly raised. Her hand was on the handle of a gun that strapped to her side. Stiles wondered if she really always carried a gun with her. In one fluid motion she moved to stand in front of Stiles and pulled her gun out of the holster holding it aimed at the doorway. The doors swung open again as Kate Argent walked in. Chris pushed himself off of the floor, walking over to stand behind Gabriella and Stiles.

"Get out of the way, Calavera. I'm taking the body," spat Kate. Gabriella could hear the disgust in her voice.

"Why? Visual confirmation?" questioned Stiles.

"Don't worry, handsome. I'm not the benefactor."

"Then what do you want with the body?" asked Chris.

"I wish I could tell you." As soon as Kate finished her last word, Chris lunged at her. He pressed his gun against her, facing up against her chin. If he actually fired, though tGabriella, the bullet would go straight through her skull. If it held enough momentum, it could possibly break through it and lodge itself into the ceiling above. And if Kate was unlucky, the bullet wouldn't kill her, but would leave her brain dead. Gabriella thought of all of this as she let her eyes quickly scan the room while not losing Kate from her line of sight. She needed to gauge her environment. She needed to know where to move and how. She needed to know what she could use to her advantage and what she should stay away from because it could be used against her.

"I always forget you carry two," said Kate to Chris.

"Back off," he replied.

"You sure you can pull that trigger fast enough?"

"I don't want to."

"You're not going to kill me."

"I'm not going to let you take his body."

"Okay, well, obviously you guys have a lot to talk about so, maybe, I saw some coffee, a vending machine outside," Stiles hastily interrupted himself into the exchange, slowly moving toward the door, but still keeping himself close to Gabriella. He knew that if the moment called for it, she could and would protect him. She had done it before, and Stiles couldn't help but trust her with his life in this very moment. Though, he felt some resentment for himself—because he was weak. He always needed to be protected. He could never fight his own battles. He always got in the way.

"Listen to me, Kate. We have a plan," said Chris.

"If killing Scott was part of it, you're worse than me," said Kate.

"He's telling the truth. We're trying to get to the benefactor," said Stiles.

"If you didn't notice, you're on that list too. And you're worth more than most," added Chris.

"That's why I'm here," said Kate.

"I don't see why you're even trying to negotiate with her," said Gabriella.

"Why don't you let the grownups talk," said Kate condescendingly.

"Come on, Chris. Just shoot her. I can take on her stupid berserkers. Remember the hunter's code, since she obviously couldn't."

"Oh, you're one to talk, little huntress. If you really followed the hunter's code, you wouldn't be a hunter." Gabriella scowled at Kate. "I'm not the only monster here," continued the Nagual. "You're as much of a monster as I am." Gabriella lowered her arms, loosening her grip on her gun and allowing it to fall onto the floor. Kate smiled in victory, but her smile fell as she saw Gabriella's eyes constrict and glow a bright green. Her face was set into a slight snarl, which allowed her fangs to be showcased to everyone in the room. Her nails were now claws; they shone silver every time the flickering lights made contact with them.

"Then," said Gabriella. "Let's fight like monsters." Kate smirked as one of her berserkers walked in through the door behind her. Chris immediately stepped back, removing his gun from Kate's chin. He stepped back putting as much distance between him and the berserker that he could and pulling Stiles along with him. He knew that neither of them stood a fraction of a chance against that beast.

Gabriella hissed loudly before running toward the berserker. The berserker rose his arm, readying himself to hit her when she got close enough. He brought his hand down when she was right in front of him, but she easily shifted her body enough to the side that he missed her. The berserkers were fast for their size. Gabriella knew this, but she also knew that she was faster. She was quicker on her feet with quicker reflexes both because of her feline nature and because of her years of training. She squatted down, quickly slashing her claws against the berserker's legs before jumping back so that he could not retaliate against her. Kate was surprised at first to see that she had actually managed to harm one of her berserkers, but then she remembered what one of her contacts had told her about this special huntress.

"Those are some special claws you have there," purred Kate. "Stronger than a werewolf's—steel, right?" Gabriella didn't bother to spare Kate a glance. Her eyes were dead set on the berserker. She didn't even allow herself to blink because she knew that if she did she could miss something that might be the difference between life and death.

"Kate," spoke up Chris, taking advantage of the fact that they had briefly stopped their fight. "Take the berserkers and go. Kate, please. We have a plan." Kate smirked once again, but this time at her brother. She turned around, signaling the berserker with her hand to follow her. As she opened the door, before she walked out, she gave one last look back at Gabriella. She still looked like she was ready to attack, which was no surprise to Kate.

"I bet you think you're tough," began Kate, "with your guns and your claws. But guns break and steel rusts and soon you'll shatter too." With those final words said, Kate walked out of the room. Once Gabriella could sense that she was far away enough, she let herself relax, and shifted back to her normal self. Chris looked relieved and Stiles looked worried.

"Shouldn't you guys be bringing Scott back to life, now?" asked Gabriella bringing them back to their earlier frantic state. Chris cursed under his breath immediately taking out his cellphone to attempt to contact Kira so that she could come and revive the teenage werewolf. Stiles, seeing that there was nothing that he could do at the moment, turned around to look at Gabriella. Something about her seemed off to Stiles. She seemed to be a bit shaken.

"I'm gonna be heading out now," she said.

"What? Why?" asked Stiles.

"Well, you're going to revive your friend that doesn't trust me with your other friends who also don't trust me." Stiles nodded, understanding that she had no right to be in the room while Scott was brought back. As Gabriella turned around to leave, Stiles grabbed onto her wrist. She twisted her head around slightly, giving Stiles a questioning look.

"See you tonight?" he asked, uncertainty in his tone. Gabriella let a small smile grace her features.

"Sure," she said as she slipped her wrist out of Stiles' hand, and then left the room.

* * *

A/N: FYI, in lore Pesanta have steel paws. I decided to make only the claws steel.


	10. Chapter 9

November 19th, 2004 [Age 9]

The girl tried to be as quiet as she could. She padded softly across the room walking toward the window to look at the outside. There was no way that she could sleep with how loud the thunder was. She pulled herself up onto the windowsill with some difficulty and started to watch the raindrops race down the window. Every time two drops would start to go down at the same time she would try to predict which one would reach the bottom first. She only looked away when she heard some sniffling. She looked over to see a boy in the bed closest to her. He held onto his blanket tightly, his legs kicking restlessly. His eyes were shut tightly and his breathing seemed ragged. She thought that he must be having a bad dream. She knew that this was her chance to prove herself. She could prove to everyone that she wasn't bad; she wasn't a monster to be feared. She just needed to make his nightmare go away.

She hopped off of the windowsill carefully, still being careful to not make any noise. She creeped over to the boy and extended her claws. She placed them on his chest. The moment she did she was bombarded with not only flashes from the nightmares, but his memories, his wishes, his innermost secrets. She didn't have full control of her abilities and she realized that this had been a terrible idea, but she couldn't pull away.

She was standing there in the nightmare as a werewolf clawed at the boy; it dug its claws into his chest and bit down hard on his shoulder. He cried out in pain over and over again. He tried to kick the werewolf off of him, but he was so weak compared to the wolf. The girl wanted to help him, but she wasn't sure how. She wanted to change the dream, but she didn't know how she could do that. Then, in a flash, the dream shifted. Instead of the wolf clawing at the boy, it was her. Her claws dug into his abdomen, and she knew that hers hurt more than the wolf's because her claws were steel; as tough and sharp as a sword. His cries became outright yelling; he was howling in pain and screaming for someone, anyone, to help him. The girl wanted to stop, but she couldn't. She couldn't will herself to stop. The screams hurt her ears. They were loud. She wanted them to stop, and, before she knew it, her fangs were dug into the boy's neck—into his trachea. She wasn't going to rip out his throat; she couldn't move, but she could feel the boy was silent now, except for his wheezing. Oh God, she thought. She was suffocating him. If she could rip his throat out, he would die a quick death, but this way it was going to be slow and painful. She felt the blood seeping into her mouth and dripping down her chin. There were tears falling from her eyes, racing down her chin the way the raindrops had raced down the windowsill. She had to remind herself that this was all just a dream.

She didn't pull out of it until the boy had finally stopped breathing. She opened her eyes and found herself back in the real world. She looked down at the boy to see her claws no longer on the boys chest, but in them. They punctured his chest, and his lungs; he had really suffocated. She had really killed him. She pulled out her claws seeing her hand now covered in blood. She stepped back. She was horrified. She turned back to the window, hopping onto the windowsill once again. She forced the window open, and climbed out of it, jumping down to the wet floor underneath her. She didn't care that the mud was oozing in between her toes or that the rain was drenching her nightgown and washing away the blood. She just knew that she had to get out of here because when everyone woke up and saw the puncture wounds on his chest, they would know that she had been the one that had killed him.

* * *

Sunday, January 22nd, 2012

Stiles could feel a slight breeze blowing in through the window. He lay on his bed staring at the wall, hoping that Gabriella really would come. He was scared that she might change her mind—that she might realize that he wasn't worth her time. Stiles suddenly felt a hand on his back causing him to jump and turn around.

"It's only me," she whispered. He sighed letting himself relax again. He hadn't heard her come in at all. He moved over toward the edge of the bed so that she would have enough room to lie down next to him. She sat down on the bed, taking the time to remove her shoes first. She turned around to face him, shifting her body so that she could lie down next to him.

"Are you always the little spoon? I know you always are with Malia," said Gabriella.

"How do you know that?" asked Stiles. He saw her eyes widen. She averted her gaze. She made an expression, as if she was blushing, but he couldn't see if she was because her russet skin wouldn't show any tinges of pink on her face. Stiles put two and two together. She must have watched him before while he was sleeping.

"You're a creep. You know that?" he said. She whined the way a cat does and, for some reason, Stiles found it adorable. "I don't really like being the little spoon, but it's the most comfortable position, I've found."

"Hmm. What have you tried?" Gabriella inquired.

"Being the big spoon and her on my chest while I'm on my back."

"Okay, are you willing to try something different?" Stiles nodded. "Lay down on your side," she said. Stiles did what he was told staring at her with a confused look on his face. She shifted to lay on her side so that they faced each other. She moved so that she was close to him—very close, thought Stiles. She moved his legs with hers so that they intertwined with one another. She turned her right hand slightly so that she could interlock her fingers with his. She set her left hand on his head, burying her hand in his hair, and began to run her fingers across his scalp. Stiles found the gesture soothing. He moved his right hand so that it lay atop the side of her waist, and he slightly pulled her closer to him. Gabriella liked being this close to him. She could see every single one of his freckles and how dark the irises of his eyes were.

"I like this," said Stiles. "I like this a lot." Gabriella smiled.

"I'm glad you think so," she said. Stiles' eyes closed as they lay in silence. Gabriella's hands never left from his hair, and Stiles' did not move from her waist. Thought, at one point, she did move slightly to readjust herself and, in the process, her shirt lifted up slightly causing Stiles' hand to touch skin instead of fabric. Her skin felt so soft under his hands; she appeared to him so hardened to the world, but he knew that she was softer than she seemed. And like that, her skin was softer than he had expected. He opened his eyes to see Gabriella's staring right back at him.

"Have you been staring at me this entire time?" asked Stiles.

"No," she said scoffing, but he could tell that she was lying.

"You're a creep, you know that?"

"So I've heard," she said. She looked away at him and they stayed in silence for a few more minutes. Time seemed to be ticking by slowly and Stiles was glad for that. He was enjoying this and wanted it to last for more than just a couple of hours. Her eyes were no longer staring at him, observing his features, and he was slightly saddened that she wasn't. He loved that she seemed to be so fascinated by him. No one had ever taken as much interest in him as she seemed to be doing—not even Malia.

Her eyes shifted back up to his face and he felt a little happier, a little warmer, on the inside.

"I like watching you," she said to him. "I like observing you. You have such perfect features. Your eyes are much lighter than they appear at first; and, though I can see some pain hidden behind them, your curiosity, your gentle nature—those are the qualities that shine through the most." She pulled her fingers out of his hair to trace them under his eyes. "And your freckles; they sprinkle across your face like stars in the night sky; scattered across like paint on a canvas. She was now tracing her fingers across his cheeks. "And your lips," she stopped, letting her fingers rest on the lower edge of his sleeps. Stiles was breathless; he felt so winded that he wasn't sure how he got out the next words that he spoke.

"What about my lips?" he asked.

"They're soft. They curve in the right places; and such a wonderful shade of pink." She traced her fingers across his lower lip now. Stiles looked down at her lips; he's never wanted to kiss anyone in his life as much as he wanted to kiss her in this moment. Their eyes met and he could tell that she felt the same way.

"They look so kissable," she whispered. If Stiles hadn't been paying as much attention to her as he was now, he would have missed what she had said. And God was he glad that he hadn't. His moved his head forward, as her fingers moved to his cheek, and pressed his lips against hers. He didn't feel any sparks; there was no fiery passion burning inside of him. What he felt was a need to bring her closer; he wanted her pressed as closely to him as he could get her. He pulled him against her, legs still entwined, hands on cheeks and hairs and hips, and their chests touching, breathing in sync. What he wanted was to feel her skin under his fingertips, her eyelashes brushing against his face. There weren't any sparks, but there was a connection—one that he had never felt before, but one that he adored. He was worried that it was an ephemeral feeling. He didn't want it to ever go away.

Gabriella felt bliss when Stiles had pressed his lips against hers. She wanted this time to be different; she wanted him to make the first move. This time was different, though, it felt less superficial—more intimate. She didn't feel any butterflies in her stomach, though. Her hearts didn't do any flips or skip any beats. But she felt a primal instinct stir within her. Her predatory nature wanted to come out. Not in the sense that he was her prey, but in the sense that he was hers. And God, did she want that. She didn't understand how it had gotten to this point. He was just a boy so far removed from her life—from what she was; but somehow he had made a huge impact in her life, and she never wanted to let him go. He had become a light to her darkness, the beauty to her beast.

Their kisses grew rougher before they grew softer; her hands eventually drifted to his chest as their lips molded together. And neither of them were sure when, but at some point they both drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Once again, Gabriella found herself in that white room with the bright lights. It was just as blinding as it had been before. She looked around, spotting a door like she had last time, but it wasn't the same door. As she walked toward it, she noticed that this door had leaves engraved on it, running across the border of the door. She gripped onto the doorknob and twisted it, pulling it toward her. On the other side of it she saw lush grass. It seemed to extend for forever. She stepped in, shutting the door softly behind her. She caught side of something ahead. It was too far for her to see exactly what it was, though. As she walked toward it she notice that it was a park. There were seesaws and monkey bars and slides all set on a square of concrete only large enough to allow these constructions to sit upon it. . It seemed out of place in this vast, never-ending field. She spotted Stiles ahead, seated on a swing. The swing set held four swings, two of which were for toddlers. She made to sit on the only available regular swing.

"So what is this place?" asked Gabriella. "Because I know this is definitely not of my making."

"It's a park I used to go to as a kid. My mom used to take me here."

"Hmm. I find it interesting that it's in the middle of nowhere. I mean, I'm assuming that this park is in Beacon Hills with houses and sidewalks and streets surrounding it. Yet here we are encircled by nothing but grass. Tell me Stiles, do you like isolation?" Stiles appeared to be deep in thought before answering.

"I don't think so, but it's something that I've had to grown used to."

"Why?"

"My friends include werewolves, a banshee, a kitsune, and even my girlfriend is a werecoyote," he said. "They can't really understand my problems anymore; they can't relate to me. They don't understand what it's like to be human; especially what it's like to be a human surrounded by the supernatural. I mean, technically I have my dad, but he's my dad. I can't talk to him about everything."

"Unfortunately, I'm just another person that you can add to that list. I'm not human and I never was, but we're more alike than either of us originally thought. If you talk to me about anything human, I will try my best to relate. Though, I don't have to relate to listen." She paused for a moment letting herself enjoy the feeling of the wind against her skin. "I have also had to get used to being isolated. The people in my life have always cast me out; they've never been able to understand me. I am, after all, a strange creature—one that not even I have met another of. I doubt I ever will. And on top of that, I'm a hunter; but even my hunter acquaintances can't accept me for what I am. So I can understand what it's like to feel secluded, at the least."

"I've felt," began Stiles, "even more cut off since last semester. Something happened to me and it's not really something that I can talk about with other people. I know that the pack thinks of me as a monster for what I did—even Scott. I know that he'll never forgive me except on the surface." Gabriella remained silent letting the sound of the whistling wind engulf them. She continued to swing gently, but noticed that Stiles had suddenly stopped his own swinging. She looked over at him and saw him biting his lip. He shuffled his feet on the floor as his hands played with the hem of his shirt.

"Aren't you going to ask what happened?" he questioned.

"No," she said. "I can tell that it's a difficult subject for you so I won't pry. I'll let you tell me of your own accord if you choose to share that information." Stiles hesitates for a moment.

"Last semester," he began, "I got possessed by an evil spirit. I hurt a lot of people during that time, and I even killed a dear friend—Scott's first love."

"Wait, do you mean Allison Argent?" Stiles seemed surprised.

"How do you know about that?"

"I was told about it when she died. I knew that someone who had been possessed killed her, but I didn't know that it was you. I knew her, actually; we were friends." Gabriella could smell the guilt radiating off of him. "I don't blame you for what happened though. I understand that it was not you, but the spirit that possessed you that did it. It was called a nogitsune, right?"

"I was possessed," he began, "but it may as well have been me who stabbed her. I wasn't strong enough to fight off the nogitsune. He took over because I was weak."

"You're not weak. Don't you see how strong you are? You're a human surrounded by supernatural creatures. You've been pulled into this supernatural world and have had to deal with a bunch of crazy enemies, but you've survived it all. Any other human would have probably died by now or abandoned their friends to escape the dangers that you've been through. But you've survived and you've stuck by them. And on top of all of that, you've managed to remain human."

"I wonder," said Stiles. Gabriella could tell that he was trying to change the subject, and she decided that she was going to let him. "Why didn't you know all of this information already? You have the ability to slip into my subconscious, right? Can't you access more than my dreams like my memories?"

"Yeah," she said. "I can access thoughts and memories. If I wanted to I could easily find out all of your deepest, darkest secrets, but I respect your privacy. I'll let you tell me whatever information you choose to disclose with me whenever you want.

"Hmm. Are your powers the reason that every time we've kissed I've had flashes of good memories. Well, not the last time, but the other times."

"What?" Gabriella looked taken aback. "That happened? That's never happened before." Gabriella thought back to their kisses. "I did put my hands on your chest when we first kissed. My claws weren't out, though, but maybe the kiss caused a special connection that allowed my powers to surface without my claws." Their conversation ceased for some odd number of minutes. Gabriella didn't mind the silence. She was happy to just enjoy the company of this boy that had somehow wormed his way into her heart. Stiles was lost in his thoughts. There was something about Gabriella that always made him think. If he wasn't thinking about her as a person, he was thinking about something she said or something she did or about how wonderful she smelled. Stiles stopped his thoughts before they could progress any further. He thought back to how she did seem to genuinely care about him. She had comforted him now and had protected him earlier that day. As he thought about the long and crazy day that he had had, he remembered how out of it she had seemed earlier that day.

"You seemed out of it earlier today," he said. "After Kate left. Are you okay now?" Gabriella was actually astonished. She had not expected for Stiles to notice something like that. She felt warm on the inside at the thought; he paid enough attention to her to notice that.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said. "She just brought up some old feelings is all. She reminded me that I really am a monster—that I'm a black sheep amongst the hunters. And she reminded me of how weak I am. I never seem able to protect the people I care about."

"You're not a monster! You're far from it. You're actually one of the nicest and caring people that I've ever met. Wow, if I told myself that a few weeks ago I would have thought that I was going crazy." Gabriella laughed at the comment. Suddenly, the pair start to hear a ringing noise echoing throughout the area.

"What's that?" asked Stiles.

"That's from outside—probably an alarm or phone. You're starting to wake, Stiles." He notices that she appears as if she's fading away. Her body starting to become a blur and fading into the background. "I'll see you on the other side," she said. And then she was gone.


	11. Chapter 10

Sunday, October 2nd, 2011 [age 15]

"You're a special case," said Araya. "You're different from the other hunters. So we'll start the initiation process different for you as well." Gabriella held a look of confusion on her face.

"You won't be making a silver bullet," said Araya. "Though, you will be using silver."

"What am I making then?" Gabriella asked.

"You won't be making anything. Bullets are a weapon that you use, but they are not your real weapon. Your claws are." Before she knew it, Gabriella felt chains being thrown on her. They restricted her movement. She began to panic.

"Calm down, mi hija. This won't hurt that much," said Araya. Gabriella felt the chains pulling her down. She felt cold metal on her back. She tried to tilt her head upward but there was a chain running across her neck as well. She couldn't move any part of her body. She thought that if she shifted she could escape. But she knew that if she did, there would be severe consequences.

"What are you doing?" asked Gabriella.

"Your claws are your weapon so we will make them silver. Did you know that silver boils at 961 degrees Celsius?" This only made Gabriella panic more.

"How do you expect to make my claws silver? That makes no sense. It's impossible."

"Si, es imposible. But we are not going to make them silver; we just want to coat them in it." Gabriella tried to move as much as she could in her chains. She heard them rattle but they didn't budge very much. [Yes, it's impossible]

"This is a very delicate process," said Araya. "So I suggest you remain still unless you want a liquid that hot on your skin." Gabriella immediately obeyed in terror. She hoped that maybe, because it was her claws and not her skin, that the process would be painless. But, boy, was she wrong. She felt every single drop that was poured onto her claws. It burned as it hit her claws, and throbbed as it dried. But all she could do was scream so she did. She screamed as loud as she could. She screamed until her throat grew raw and she lost her voice.

* * *

Monday, January 24th, 2012

Stiles woke up groggily. Both being woken up so abruptly and being pulled out of his dream had irritated him. His irritation subsided when the first thing he saw was the curly-haired beauty that he had fallen asleep next to. Their hands were still entwined and he didn't want to move, but he knew that he should probably not ignore his phone. With friends like his, a single missed phone call could mean someone's death. As soon as Gabriella's eyes open, Stiles noticed a hint of green in them, but after a few seconds it subsided into the brown that they normally were. She pulled her hand out of his, sitting herself up on the bed. Her eyes were, for Stiles, an unspoken command to pick up the phone. He groaned as he moved to grab his phone from the small table stand next to his bed. He grabs it as it rings for the last time. Stiles sees the notification on his phone telling him that he has three missed calls from Lydia and two texts from her, letting him know that she was on her way to his house to tell him something important. Stiles cursed under his breath as he rushed himself out of bed. In his rush, some of the bed sheets got caught on one of his feet causing him to trip and hit his head against the wall.

"Ow," he said.

"Are you okay?" asked Gabriella, crawling over to his side of the bed so that she could get a better look at the boy.

"Ah," he said as he quickly got up and sifted through his closet for clean clothing. "I'm fine." He was about to change his pants when he remembered that he wasn't alone in the room. "Uhh." He looked back at Gabriella.

"Oh, I don't mind," said Gabriella with a feigned look of innocence on her face. "As long as you don't," she finished and sent a wink his way. Stiles blushed, shoving himself into the closet as much as he could. He didn't have time to run to the bathroom. Lydia's text was sent almost half an hour ago. She would be there any minute and the last thing that he wanted her to find is him in bed with Gabriella.

"Mind telling me what's going on, Stiles?" she asked him. Stiles made his way out of the closet having changed his clothes in a little under a minute. He sat back on the bed as he started putting a fresh pair of socks onto his feet.

"Lydia's coming. She's going to be here any minute," said Stiles.

"Okay?" she asked.

"Okay?!" exclaimed Stiles putting one of his feet into a sneaker. "How do you think she's going to react when she sees us here like this?!"

"Ahh," mumbled Gabriella. "If that was the issue, why didn't you just tell me to leave?" Gabriella let her head fall back on the pillow. She was exhausted. Even if she had slept through the night, using her powers always wore her out; and she had been using them for extended periods of time. All she wanted was for Stiles to crawl back into bed with her and fall asleep—a proper sleep.

"I did not think of that," he said. Just as he finished tying his shoelace, Lydia Martin walked in, looking no less unfashionable than usual. Gabriella lifted her head to look over at Lydia when she walked in. Lydia's eyes widened significantly and her head tilted slightly to the side as she took in the sight before her. She turned her head over toward Stiles.

"This isn't what it looks like!" said Stiles, flailing his arms in the air.

"And what does it look like Stiles?" she asks. "Because to me it looks like you moved on to someone with much better taste. I approve." Gabriella sat up on the bed, surprisingly stunned at Lydia's reaction.

"What?" asked Gabriella.

"Don't tell me you haven't noticed," said Lydia. "You can dress yourself better than Malia or Kira could ever dream of, combined. Shorts with leggings? Please!" Gabriella couldn't help, but let out a laugh at Lydia's reply. She wasn't sure if Lydia was always this accepting of people or if it had something to do with what had happened between them at the party, but right now Gabriella was so glad to have someone else that didn't see her as the enemy. Stiles was speechless. His mouth was slightly agape. He was unsure as to how to react to Lydia's response to the situation.

"Come on, now," began Lydia. "We don't have all day."

"What exactly don't we have all day for?" asked Stiles.

"Oh, right. I haven't told you yet. So my grandmother's ashes aren't really her ashes, and since she was a banshee I'm thinking that she may be the benefactor or at least helping him."

"You think your grandmother is still alive?"

"It's definitely a possibility. I wanted to run this by the sheriff."

"Ahh. Alright. Let's go," Stiles said as he stood up from the bed and started making his way toward the door. However, he could not leave since Lydia hadn't moved from her spot in the doorway, and, thus, was blocking him from exiting. She raised her eyebrow at him.

"What?" he asked.

"Well," began Lydia, "aren't you going to invite your new girlfriend to come along?"

"What?" Lydia sighed.

"Come on, Gabriella. You can come too if you want." Lydia looked around Stiles at the girl who was still seated on Stiles bed. She was surprised, but Lydia's smile seemed genuine. She didn't smell any sort of deceit coming from the strawberry blonde so she decided to agree to go along. She quickly put her shoes on and walked over to the pair. Lydia moved from the doorway and turned around to head down the stairs. Stiles was puzzled by how Lydia was acting; she normally did not warm up to people this quickly—there was Allison, but she was different. They exited the house, Gabriella closing the door behind her.

"Aren't you going to lock the door, Stiles?" asked Lydia.

"No," he answered.

"That's exactly how I was able to get in. What if someone more dangerous than me with different intents goes in?"

"Pssh. What are they gonna do? Steal the kitchen table? Come on, it's Beacon Hills. If you disregard all the supernatural stuff, our crime rate is ridiculously low. Trust me, I calculated it. And who would be stupid enough to try to do anything to the sheriff's house?" Stiles made his way to his jeep while Lydia made her way to her car.

"Come, Gabriella! Ride with me!" exclaimed Lydia. Gabriella did not dare oppose her. Lydia may not have had any claws or fangs the way that Gabriella did, but Gabriella could tell that Lydia was not someone who you would want to get on the bad side of. As Gabriella sat down in the passenger seat and closed the car door, Lydia spoke up.

"Can I call you Gabby?" asked Lydia, looking over at Gabriella. Gabriella looked over at her seeing the pain hidden in her eyes. There was definitely more to Lydia than she showed the rest of the world. Gabriella had learned that much on the night that they had first met.

"Sure," said Gabriella. The two spent the rest of the ride conversing about trivial things, starting to get to know each other a little better. Gabriella had never had a friend like this, and she liked it.

* * *

Sheriff Stilinski sighed as he watched his son walk into the police department. Every time he came in, he told him something else that increased his stress. His blood pressure was rising with the newfound knowledge of all the supernatural things that were going on in this town. He still hadn't fully wrapped around his whole head around it. With him were Lydia and a girl who he had yet to meet.

"Dad," said Stiles. "We have something to tell you."

"That doesn't surprise me," he said. "First, who's she? Is she, y'know, one of them?" Gabriella rolled her eyes at the sheriff's lack of discreetness.

"This is Gabriella," he said. "She is a werecat that can go into people's subconscious and dreams and stuff."

"How many times do I have to tell you that I am not a werecat!" exclaimed Gabriella. The sheriff looked around to see that the only officer currently in the station was Haigh who seemed too immersed in his work to notice what they had said.

"She's also a hunter," said Lydia. "Who may or may not end up killing Scott in the near future?"

"Uhh," said the Sheriff. "Why is she here then?"

"Oh, she's a friend!"

"I'm not even going to ask."

The sheriff ushered them into his office. Stiles and Lydia walked to stand close to the man's desk with him whereas Gabriella kept her distance from the three, walking toward the windows of the room and choosing to look into the rest of the station.

The three began to talk while Gabriella took the time to observe her surroundings; Hunter 101: always be aware of the environment that you're in; always know what you can use against someone and what can be used against you. Know where you can hide and where people can be hiding.

The other officer who was there smelled odd to Gabriella. She smelled something from him that she was used to smelling—a distinct smell that came off of someone who had killed before, but she didn't find that too unsettling. He was an officer after all; it wouldn't be surprising to know if he had killed someone before. But there was more than just that. There was anxiety, and something else that she couldn't quite place.

"It's not just that she could still be alive," said Stiles to his father.

"It's that she would have had to fake her own death," added Lydia.

"Your grandmother, Lorraine Martin, faked her death?" asked Sheriff Stilinski in disbelief.

"Definitely," said Stiles.

"Maybe," said Lydia.

"More than likely, yes."

"Oh," said the Sheriff. "I'm guessing you have a sorry to back this up?"

"She might be helping the benefactor," said Lydia.

"Or is the benefactor," said Stiles.

"That sounds like a story worth hearing," said the Sheriff in a much lower voice than previously. He turned back to close the door to his office. Gabriella's attention drifted away from what the three other occupants in the room were talking about. Lydia had briefed her on what her thoughts were about this so she didn't think that they would say anything else that would be new to her. She was much more interested in this office anyway. His scent was bothering her. She kept sifting through the different smells coming off from him. Sometimes it would be difficult separating different smells, but she needed to find out what was so odd—what it was that was making her uneasy. It was more difficult now, as well, that the door to the office had been closed.

She smelled some horrible cologne on him, which she quickly disregarded. She smelled fire; usually she smelled this on people who had been at barbeques, but he didn't look like someone who had just come from a barbeque. He looked like someone who had been working all day. It wasn't from smoking; that scent was distinct from the scent that he had; it was the scent that meat being cooked gave off.

The sheriff opened the door to poke his head out.

"Anybody seen Parrish?" he inquired. "Haigh?" Haigh. That was the name of the man that smelled off. Gabriella kept her eyes on him as he lifted his head from his computer.

"Haven't seen him," he said. His heart rate had slightly risen at the question. It rose further at the sheriff asked him directly. His anxiety also seemed to have risen slightly. Gabriella took a deep breath, inhaling as much of his scent as she could before the sheriff closed the door again. He was sweating, much more profusely than he should have been based on the building's temperature. That's when it hit her. It was deceit. She smelled deceit and death and anxiety as if he had just killed someone and was afraid that he would be caught. Had he? Gabriella didn't know how vital this information was. Was he maybe involved with the dead pool and had killed someone else on the list? Or had he just killed some other person—a civilian perhaps? Either way, it was definitely something that she should tell the sheriff. He would definitely want to investigate. She looked back at the trio briefly to see that they were still engrossed in the conversation. It didn't seem like it was that urgent of an issue so she decided that she would tell them later. She switched her attention back to the station, only to be met by a very peculiar sight.

There in the station was a man half-naked, covered completely in soot.

"Stiles..." said Gabriella in an urgent tone. She got no response from the boy. The man was walking further into the station. He smelled of ashes and death; the latter smelled strangely strong. She had only smelled it that strong from something that was already dead. But the most overpowering smell radiating from him was pure, unadulterated anger.

"Stiles," she says again in a slightly louder voice. Once again, she was ignored. She did not think that they were that absorbed by the conversation, but apparently they were. He stopped next to the desk where Haigh, the man who smelled of deceit, was seated. Haigh turned his head as he felt the presence of someone appear next to him. The ashen man inhaled deeply as Haigh processed the sight before him.

"Holy.." began Haigh. Gabriella had seen very few men this surprised. Haigh grabbed for his gun as the man walked toward him. Gabriella did not need to have a very high I.Q. to put together that this man had the intent of hurting Haigh; possibly of killing him.

"Stiles!" Gabriella shouted very loudly. Their attention finally turned to Gabriella.

"What?" asked Stiles. Gabriella didn't answer as she ran toward the door, opening it so quickly that she felt it scrape under her claws—claws. She hadn't even noticed that they had come out. She was completely on edge due to the sudden atmospheric shift in the station.

The man pushed Haigh against the wall before Haigh could shoot him. His hand was still on the trigger so as he struggled with the man he couldn't help but to fire a few shots into the air.

"You're dead," said Haigh. This must be the person that he had killed—or at least Haigh thought that he had killed him. She rushed toward the two wary of the fact that stray bullets could fly toward her at any moment. The man roared as he pushed Haigh onto the floor. Gabriella moved to stand behind the ashen man as he beat on Haigh; he had no intent of holding back with his punches.

"Hey! Hey!" shouted the Sheriff as he hurried out of his office, gun held out ready. Time seemed to be going by so slowly for Gabriella. So much was happening at once and so many thoughts were running through her head simultaneously. She knew that only a few seconds had passed though. She had grown accustomed to this feeling. This was how she felt during every fight, every encounter she had ever had as a hunter. Gabriella retracted her claws and pulled out her gun quickly. She didn't want to physically put herself into the fight. Not because she was afraid that she'd get hurt, but because she was afraid that she would hurt one, if not both, of them. She had learned over the years to not underestimate her abilities; especially when a human was involved. She aimed at the leg of the man covered in soot. She didn't want to kill him; but if she could shoot him in a spot that was not lethal, perhaps she could divert his anger onto her; she'd be able to handle his punches; or perhaps the pain would help to calm him down. She removed the safety and pulled the trigger, all in one second. Her training had taught her to be quick. She could reload her gun in less than five seconds. She had been taught that any second that she'd waste could be the second in which she'd be killed. She shot the man in his right leg, but not before a stray bullet shot out of Haigh's gun and grazed the sheriff's shoulder.

"But you're dead!" exclaimed Haigh. The man did not cease his attack. The shot to his leg did not seem to faze him at all. Could he be so angry that he did not feel any pain? And then it hit Gabriella. How could she be so stupid, she thought. He was supposed to be dead? This was probably related to the dead pool. He survived because he was supernatural. Gabriella had no reason to hold back anymore. She put her gun back in its holster and grabbed onto the man's shoulders. She pulled him toward her and away from Haigh; she could tell that if she had let the man continue for only a few seconds longer, he probably would have killed Haigh. Whatever it was that Haigh had done, which Gabriella assumed was set this man, or whatever he was, on fire, probably made him deserving of a death like this. But she didn't want to assume wrongly nor let this man kill Haigh when he was possessed by his anger. He might possibly regret it later if she let him kill Haigh.

The man immediately turned to Gabriella, angry that someone had interrupted what he was doing. Gabriella was relieved that she was able to divert his anger. He quickly swung at her; Gabriella hadn't expected him to be so fast so she did not brace herself for it. She was pushed back a couple of steps from the force of the punch, which pissed her off—a lot. She could tell from Haigh's breathing that he was unconscious. Now it was just Stiles, Lydia and the sheriff in the station, and then them two of course. Gabriella smirked, letting her claws and fangs emerge. Her pupils contracted, glowing a bright green. She dodged his next punch, stepping to his right. She slid behind him while he was still recuperating from his miss. Gabriella took the moment to slash her claws against his back deeply. He cried at the sudden pain shooting through his back. She crouched and swept her feet across the floor, hitting his legs and causing him to fall on his face. He groaned. Gabriela stepped on his back, increasing the pain from the wound on his back. She hissed at him, asserting her dominance over him the way that a wolf would by growling.

"That's enough, Ella!" shouted Stiles. The sound of her special nickname reminded her that she needed to calm herself. She took a deep breath allowing herself to shift back and step away from the man. She felt ashamed that Stiles had seen her this way. It's not that she didn't know to control herself. It's that she was always taught to never hold back—not in a fight; because holding back could mean losing the battle and, consequently, death. All of her lessons revolved around the same thing: learn how to not die.

The man was still conscious, but in serious pain. He didn't seem like he would be trying to get up soon; and when he did, she didn't think that he would still be as angry as before. She looked over at the three who had been spectators this entire time. Lydia appeared surprised; Gabriella expected this since she had yet to see her abilities. The sheriff looked in pain. He lay in Stiles' arms, holding onto his shoulder, and bleeding onto Stiles' clothing. Gabriella was irritated at this; she had been through so much worse so moments like these, where others could not deal with lesser wounds, bothered her. But she knew that it was not right of her to think this way, and she knew that it could easily have been Stiles. They're human after all, thought Gabriella. They're only human.

Stiles' face broke her. When he looked down at his father his face was filled with only worry and concern, but when he looked up at her his face was etched with fear. He had never seen her like this. He had seen her fight the berserkers but that was different. They were huge beasts. But this, this wasn't the same. He had never seen how violent she could be; how wild, how ferocious; how monstrous. Stiles felt guilty at his thoughts. It was only last night that she had told him about her feeling like a monster. It was only last night that he had comforted her, rejecting those words. And yet here he was thinking of her like every other person that she had met. Stiles thought that maybe they were right; maybe they had a reason to think of her that way. Would she have killed him if he hadn't snapped her out of it, he thought. He wasn't sure if she had any restraint. Stiles wondered how many people had she killed? Stiles gulped. He had to remind himself that this wasn't all of her. He had known her to be sweet and kind. She wasn't a two-dimensional person; this—how she was raised—did not solely define her. Gabriella smelled the amalgam of emotions that exuded from him: sadness and guilt and fear; her heart broke when she realized what she had done—she had just proven to Stiles that she really was a monster.

Gabriella did not go to see Stiles that night, and Stiles had no pleasant dreams.


	12. Chapter 11

Friday, February 7th, 2006 [age 10]

Her stomach growled. She placed her tiny hands on her stomach as she sat on the dirt path, leaning her back against the building behind her. She was grateful for the blanket she had; she was able to wrap it around herself and keep herself warm during the winter. Though it was not as harsh, she knew, as the winters further north. It was still a cold that she needed to be protected from.

She wasn't sure when she had last eaten. Maybe two days ago? She had been losing her sense of time. It made it easier to deal with living on the streets. If she focused on the time everything would feel like an eternity. The last time she ate had only been a piece of bread. She was lucky to have even gotten it. She was sat as she was now, but by a different building, when she had seen a mother pass by with her child. The child was eating bread, but halfway through, he accidentally dropped it. He went to grab it when his mother immediately stopped him.

"Don't eat that," she said. "It's dirty now." The boy looked sad that he wouldn't have any more bread to eat, but he obeyed his mother and continued to walk with her. As soon as they were out of sight, the girl had run to the piece of bread and eaten it with haste. Dirty or not, when you are starving you do not care.

Now, though, she was desperate for food once again. So desperate that she was thinking about stealing something from one of the vendors at the marketplace. She needed food, she thought. She didn't want to die of starvation. They won't even notice, she thought. They're always so busy with their customers and they have so many things that it's probably difficult to keep track of. The girl got up and walked over to the marketplace. She made sure to stay out of sight. She crept behind one cart that was selling fruits and grabbed onto an apple, but, as she did, a striking pain traveled throughout her body. It was so agonizing, unlike anything that she had ever felt before, that she couldn't help but to scream. This, of course, immediately caught the attention of everybody in the marketplace. They looked over to see the girl hunched over by the cart that she had stolen from with an apple in her hand.

"Thief!" shouted the merchant. He did not care about why she was screaming. He did not care about any pain that she could have been suffering through. He only cared that this street urchin had tried to rob him, even if it was only an apple.

The people started to whisper amongst themselves, wondering why the girl was screaming. She had fallen completely to the floor, unable to support her weight. She lay on her side trying with all her might to curl up into a ball. But she refused to let go of the apple. At a point she had heard a pair of feet shuffling in front of her. She wasn't sure when because she had lost all sense of time as she endured the pain.

"Let go of the apple," said the voice of the woman, but the girl refused to. Then she felt the apple snatched out of her hand and the pain stopped. The girl panted heavily, finally opening her eyes. She looked up to see an older woman; there were two very muscular men standing behind her. The apple was in her hand.

"Come with me," she said. The girl was scared. Why would she want the girl to go with her? Was the woman going to punish her for her attempted theft?

"If you come with me, I will give you plenty of food to eat," said the woman. The girl did not hesitate then to push herself off of the floor. She was willing to risk everything for food. If not, she would end up dying anyway. She would starve. The marketplace was now silent. Everyone seemed afraid to even breath. As she walked after the woman, everyone averted their eyes from her. Who was this woman? They walked in silence for some time, before the woman spoke.

"You're a pesanta," she said.

"What?" asked the girl.

"A pesanta. A very rare creature to find."

"I don't understand. How do you know that I'm really what you say I am?"

"You screamed when you grabbed that apple, right?"

"Yes."

"And the apple was one that you stole?" asked the woman. The girl was hesitant to answer, but decided to tell the truth.

"Yes."

"The pain struck you as you grabbed the stolen item. Pesantas have many abilities, but one of their weaknesses is that they cannot take anything that does not belong to them without permission. It is, presumably, a way to keep balance with your other abilities. Everyone must have their weakness, after all." The girl was still confused. She was something that had a strange name and because she was that something she felt pain when she stole? It just didn't make any sense to her.

"Where are we going?" asked the girl, shifting her curiosity to what her fate would be.

"To my home. I can't allow such a rare opportunity to pass me by. I will feed you and teach you. You will become a weapon."

* * *

Tuesday, January 24th, 2012

Gabriella snuck into the room that Stiles was staying in at the hospital through the window—the perks of being able to shift into a feline. Stiles jumped when he noticed her perched on the chair beside his bed. She shifted back into her human form sending a smile at Stiles.

"Are you okay?" she asked him.

"Yeah," he replied. It was only a punch. She stood up walking up to him. She placed her hands on either side of his face.

"I don't mean just physically. Are you emotionally okay?" He didn't say anything. He removed her hands from his cheeks and brought them back down so that they lay against her sides again. Gabriella bit her lip deciding to sit down on the bed next to Stiles. He may not have given her an answer, but she could tell, from his reaction, that he was not okay. She didn't move to embrace him. He didn't seem to want to be touched at the moment and she would respect that. She looked up at the ceiling, letting the silence consume the room.

"This is so strange for me," she spoke up. "I've never really been in a hospital before. The Calaveras treated any wounds I had. But most of it was just me healing on my own. They only made sure that I didn't bleed to death before I could properly heal. This place is so depressing though. How could anyone expect to heal in here?" Stiles didn't respond, but she hadn't really expected him to. She lay herself down on the bed, turning on her side so that Stiles could remain in her sight. After a few moments he lay down next to her turning to face her. Neither of them said anything though. She understood Stiles' silent request. He didn't want a conversation; he didn't want to talk about what happened. He just wanted someone to keep him company. In that moment, he didn't want to feel alone.

* * *

Wednesday, January 25th, 2012

Stiles heard a knock at his door. He turned to see Melissa enter the room.

"You find a tape player?" he asked.

"No," answered Melissa. She looked over to the seat next to the hospital bed, confused as to why there was someone in the room. Visiting hours had barely just started and she would've known if any visitors had come to visit Stiles. No one had checked in. "How did you get in here?" she asked. She had never seen this girl before. She wondered what her connection to Stiles was. Was she linked to the supernatural like the others? The girl did not reply to her, only staring at Melissa with big, curious eyes. Melissa felt like she was analyzing her and she didn't like it. "Anyway," she began deciding to ignore this strange and unnerving girl, "I found someone looking for you."

Melissa stepped to the side to let Malia walk in. The moment that Malia saw Gabriella in the same room as Stiles, she grew angry.

"What are you doing here?" growled Malia.

"What?" asked Gabriella, standing up from her chair. "I can't visit a friend in the hospital?" Gabriella walked forward toward Malia. She knew that the closer she got to the werecoyote the angrier she got. Gabriella knew better than to poke an aggressive animal with a stick, but she just couldn't help herself. Upsetting the coyote was just so easy and so entertaining. Though, she knew that that wasn't the only reason. She felt defensive at the appearance of Malia. Gabriella felt like Stiles was hers. She felt possessive over the boy. She didn't want Malia there. She didn't want Malia to interfere with what she had built with Stiles over the past couple of days.

Malia growled at her, letting her eyes glow and her fangs and claws show.

"Calm down, mutt," teased Gabriella. "I don't want to have to send you to the pound." Malia lunged at Gabriella, but Gabriella quickly dodged her punch.

"Oh, how amusing," said Gabriella. "You think that you have a chance against me in a fight. Save yourself the embarrassment."

"You think you're all that," growled Malia, "but at least I'm not a hypocrite." Gabriella felt herself tense. "Come on, you're supposed to be a hunter, but you're as much of an animal as I am. You're supposed to be our enemy, but here you are buddying up with one of our own." Gabriella did not like Malia pointing out how skewed her and her intentions seemed. She didn't want to be the beast or the enemy.

"You should really watch your mouth, you mongrel," hissed Gabriella as her pupils contracted, her eyes shifting from brown to green. Stiles immediately stepped between the two, putting out a hand toward each of them.

"Stop it! Both of you!" he said. "You're acting like children." Gabriella immediately shifted back at his words. She felt ashamed that she had acted that way and distressed that he thought her to be childish.

"I think you should go," he said, his gaze set on Gabriella. That hurt. She couldn't help but feel that he was choosing Malia over her. She looked into Stiles' eyes looking for something there, but there was no sadness, no remorse. She wondered if he could see the pain in her eyes. She kept her composure though as she turned and left. She didn't want to show Stiles how affected she was by his words since he obviously wasn't. It seemed like she ended up caring about him much more than he cared about her.

Melissa closed the door when Gabriella left, leaving Stiles and Malia alone in the room.

"Hey," said Stiles to Malia.

"I heard you almost got killed," she said.

"I heard you almost got killed," he said.

"You okay?"

"Brunski punched me in the face. Turns out he was a serial killer."

"Makes sense," said Malia.

"Yeah. What about you?"

"We almost got set on fire."

"Everyone okay?"

"Basically."

"You ok?" asked Stiles.

"I'm fine." There was a pause shared between the two—an awkwardness shared between the two of them.

"I'm gonna go," said Malia as she turned around toward the door.

"You don't have to."

"I should go."

"Okay," said Stiles, but when Malia went to turn the doorknob, it did not budge.

"It's locked," she said.

"Why would she lock the door?" Stiles walked toward the door trying himself to turn the doorknob. It still failed to unlock.

"Um, hey, Melissa?" questioned Stiles. He fiddled with the doorknob a bit more. "Melissa."

"I could break it," suggested Malia.

"How about you not? I already owe this hospital enough money."

"Why would she lock the door?"

"Maybe she didn't mean to."

"You don't just accidentally lock a door."

"Okay, well, maybe she wasn't thinking exactly," said Stiles. "Or wasn't thinking it through. You know, people sometimes do things without thinking them through."

"Then she's stupid."

"No, even smart people can do stupid things. You know, cause they think that it's the right thing. And I don't think that we should hold it against her, you know, for the rest of life. Especially because she's tried apologizing hundreds of times through texts and voice mails."

"Is she gonna keep begging?"

"She might?"

"I don't have much practice in things like forgiveness," said Malia. "Some things I'm picking up fast. But other things are like..."

"Like math?"

"I hate math."

"You hate me?"

"I like you, Stiles. I like you a lot."

"I can work with that."

Gabriella's jaw tensed as she heard the pair's lips press against each other's. She hadn't left yet. She had decided to stand just around the corner and listen in on their conversation. She was starting to second-guess if that had been a good idea. She couldn't bare the pain coursing through her chest. She had spent the past few days giving her all to Stiles. She had gone out of her way to make him feel better, to make him feel as good as she could. And, yet, here he was falling so easily into the arms of another woman. She couldn't handle it. Why was she always abandoned? The people she cared about always left her behind; she had thought that Stiles would be the exception. He seemed so kind and forgiving. But here he was proving her otherwise, proving to her that she wasn't worth anyone's time or anyone's love.

She was broken out of her reverie by the vibrations of her phone. She pulled it out of her pocket seeing an unknown number on the screen. She answered the call nonetheless.

"Gabriella?" It was Scott's voice on the other line. How odd. Why would he be calling her of all people.

"Yes?"

"I know this may seem crazy, but I'm calling to ask for your help."

"With?"

"Argent and I, we've devised a plan. We're in the Argent Arms Building waiting for everyone that wants to hunt us. We sent them an invite to meet us there so we can take them out."

"So why are you asking for my help? I'm the enemy. I could easily turn on you."

"No. I trust you not to," he said.

"Why?"

"Argent says you wouldn't do that. And, I guess, Stiles seems to trust you so I will too." Gabriella's heart plunged as she heard his name. She didn't want to even think about him. She wanted all the pain to go away and the best way she knew how to deal with pain was with fighting—fighting until your body gave out.

"I'll be right there," she said hanging up on Scott. She quickly walked away. The only evidence that she had even been there were the claws marks that she had left on the wall that she had been leaning against.

* * *

A/N: In lore, Pesantas are said to have holes in their paws, which make them unable to take anything. I chose to not have her have holes in her paws because that's kinda weird, but she can't take anything without permission.


	13. Chapter 12

March 17th, 2010 [Age 15]

"Pinche Pendeja!" he shouted. Gabriella gritted her teeth. This boy had come up to her, insulting her left and right, pushing her buttons, or trying to. She wasn't entirely sure what the boy's intentions were. Though, she assumed that he wanted to fight her. It was general knowledge that she was special, different, and Araya's personal favorite. None of her peers liked that. There was a general consensus amongst everyone that anyone who could successfully beat her would have the unofficial title of the best fighter there. But she didn't want to fight.

He didn't want to land the first punch. That much was obvious. He was egging her on so that she would start it. That way she'd take all the blame. That way she would get the brunt of the punishment. Gabriella didn't care about any punishments. She'd suffered enough at the hands of Araya that she didn't think that there was possibly anything worse that could be done to her. The boy didn't understand that. He didn't understand how strong she was, how easily she could snap his neck. But she knew and that's why she had to control herself and walk away from him.

"Look, she's scared!" he shouted at her as she walked away. The crowd that had gathered behind him was whistling and cheering. They were only accomplishing furthering his arrogance. She felt something hit the back of her head. It felt heavy and wet. She turned herself slightly just to see what it was. There laying at her feet was a rabbit, lifeless and bloody.

"Thought you might be hungry," he said. The smug grin on his face told her that he thought he was being clever. Gabriella narrowed his eyes at him.

"What? You didn't like that?" he asked. He braced himself, getting into a proper fighting stance. "Then come at me, puta!" Gabriella hissed at him. If this boy wanted to die so badly then she would do him the favor of killing him. She ran toward him much faster than he had expected. He went to land a punch, but she grabbed his fist and pushed him onto the floor. She pressed her foot on his chest, moving her grip from his fist to his wrist. Her claws were out, digging into his wrist so deeply that she could feel the bone. The blood was dripping down his arm, covering most of it in crimson.

The crowd had grown silent; many of their mouths were agape, others had them covered. Some of them couldn't pull their eyes away and some couldn't help but to cover their eyes. They were hunters in training, but they had never been exposed to something like this. They had never gone out into a field, never bled in their training except for the occasional nosebleed or busted lip. To Gabriella, though, this was nothing new. She had endured pain ten times worse than this boy had—than any of the spectators had. That only made her more upset and more hell-bent on hurting this boy.

She kept her foot on his chest, pulling on his wrist, tugging his arm toward her until she heard the pop of his arm popping out of its joint. She let it fall to his side limp.

She heard a commotion; noise around her all of a sudden. She couldn't discern what it was. Everything seemed distorted to her; and then she felt a shock going throughout her entire body. She recognized it. It was the feeling of being electrocuted. She hissed as the feeling didn't subside only growing in intensity. It only made her more desperate to end this boy's life. Everything she was feeling, all the pain and anger, was being directed at this boy who did not know when to avoid a fight. She slashed at him, everywhere that she could, but stopped when she felt her body start to go numb. Her eyelids started to droop. She didn't know if this meant that she had lost the battle. She wasn't sure if she cared. All she thought about while she drifted into unconsciousness was how could she let herself do that. How could she lose herself like that?

The boy felt relief when Gabriella had stopped her attacks on him. Her eyes closed, but his panic began again when her body felt limp on top of his. There were tears mixing with blood mixing with snot and he was sure that he had peed himself. He had bruises and scratches and pain in every muscle in his body. This was a day that he would never forget. He couldn't. She had dug her claws too deeply into the skin on his face. It scarred. Every time he looked in the mirror after that, he remembered her. And it always reminded him to pick his fights with caution.

* * *

Wednesday, January 25th, 2012

"Let's make something perfectly clear to anyone with a copy of that list," said Derek. He turned his back to the group, walking toward the window. "It doesn't matter if they're professional assassins, hunters, or an amateur who just picked up a gun." He turned around to face the group again, showing his gun to demonstrate that he was like the amateur that he had just spoken about. "Anyone who thinks they can hunt and kill us for money is gonna be put on another list. Our list. They get to be a name on our dead pool."

They start mumbling to each other, unsure if it's a good plan.

"He's right," says Scott. We get to them before they get to us. We call them all here and..." Scott trailed off.

"We kill them," continued Derek for him.

"Or just beat them until they're unconscious if you want," said Scott giving Derek a disapproving look. "We don't all have to be killers." Derek rolled his eyes at Scott. "Alright, we should ready ourselves. If we're going to do this I need to call one more person for help."

"Who?"

"You'll see. Can I have a word with you, Argent?" Scott asked. Chris followed after Scott as he walked to a corner far away from everyone else. He didn't want the others to listen in on him. They seemed lost in their own conversations, though.

"What is it?" asked Chris.

"I was thinking—I was thinking about calling Gabriella," he said.

"The hunter? The Calavera?"

"Yeah. I don't know. I think she'd help us. She's been helping Stiles. He trusts her. Do you trust her?"

"Yes. Go ahead and ask her to come. I think she would be willing to help us; especially since she's also on the dead pool." Scott nodded, getting Gabriella's telephone from Chris. Chris walked away, letting Scott talk to her himself. He asked her to come, and she agreed. He was worried that she might come too late. He had joined the group again and was comforting Kira. She was terrified of this battle. What if she died? What if he died? He furrowed his brows as he saw a cat saunter into the building. No alarms had rung, but maybe the cat was too small to trigger any alarms.

"Shoo," said Derek, gesturing at the cat to go away. "Get out of here unless you want to die." In the blink of an eye, Gabriella was standing in place of the cat.

"It's okay," she said. "I've always wondered if I had nine lives." Derek grew confused at first and then he grew angry. He pulled out his gun aiming it at her.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. "Are you here to hunt us?"

"Are you an idiot? I'm on the dead pool. I have as much reason to be here as you do," she hissed at him.

"But you're a Calavera." Murmurs broke out against those that had not known who she was.

"Yea, and I'm also a Scorpio. Are we going to keep listing irrelevant information?"

"It's not irrelevant."

"Shut up," she said. "Chris is a hunter and you're not saying shit to him. Scott called me here because he trusts me and he knows that I can be of help. I'm a seasoned hunter who's gone through vigorous training; I'm more skilled than many of you put together." By the end her pupils were slits, her eyes glowing green. The sight of her like this took Derek aback. He had known that she was on the dead pool, but, because she was a hunter, it never meant much to him until that moment. He conceded and put away his gun to signal that he accepted her help.

Not too long afterward, an alarm starting blaring throughout the building.

"They're coming," said Chris. It all happened in a flash. So many people came that Gabriella had lost count. She quickly pulled her gun out, firing rapidly. Though, when she ran out of bullets, she didn't bother to reload. It would only waste time, she thought. In a moment like this, with so many enemies, she couldn't waste a second. She quickly holstered her gun and extended her nails into claws. Her teeth turned into fangs and, in a flash, she ran right into the center of the fray.

She was dodging attacks left and right. Punching in every which way. Her claws were covered in so much blood, that it was dripping down and into the ground. She had a couple of scratches on her and there places where she knew bruises would later form. Bullets had grazed her in several places and about three were lodged somewhere in her body. She didn't let it bother her. She didn't let it stop her. It was at times like these that she was thankful for Araya's training. She had been shot, wounded, until she learned to ignore it, to keep fighting. She wouldn't stop until either her enemy was dead or she was.

In her peripheral vision she saw Scott. He was clawing at a man with a fierceness that she had never seen in him before. His face had almost lost its human visage. He looked so much like a werewolf; too much like a werewolf. Oh no, Scott, she thought. Don't lose yourself. Don't lose your control. Then, all of a sudden, she heard buzzing and chiming everywhere. It was the sounds of cellphones. It seemed like everyone's had gone off at the same time. There was a moment of calm as everyone stopped to gather themselves. She turned her attention to Scott. She saw that he had stopped slashing at the man. His face had started to look more human again. Gabriella felt a relief wash over her. Good job, Scott, she thought. Thank god. I don't want to have to kill you.

She pulled out her own phone, noticing that it too had been vibrating. She saw the message that had been sent; the message that she assumed was sent to everyone else here as well: "All contracts terminated."

* * *

Saturday, January 28th, 2012

Gabriella tried to ignore the knocking on her door. She didn't know who it was and she was too tired to care. It was the weekend and she was going to sleep in, no matter who told her otherwise. Unfortunately for Gabriella, the knocking did not cease, though.

"I know you're in there!" rang out Lydia's voice through the door. What was she doing here, thought Gabriella. She groaned into her pillow forcing herself up and toward the door to open it. As soon as she did, Lydia quickly walked in.

"Thank God. I wasn't sure how much longer I was going to have to stand there. You must be a heavy sleeper," said Lydia.

"I'm not. I was just ignoring the knocking," replied Gabriella.

"That's rude of you," Lydia commented, looking at Gabriella's current appearance. "Well, you're no sleeping beauty, it seems."

"Now, that was rude." The two shared a small smile. "How did you even find out where I live?"

"I have my ways, " said Lydia. "Come on, I'm going to help you get ready." Lydia pushed the girl forward.

"Wait, what? Why? What do I need to be ready for?" Gabriella questioned. Lydia sighed.

"You're pretty oblivious you know," she said.

"Am not! I just can't read people's minds." Gabriella saw Lydia trying to hold back a smile. The girl was obviously teasing her. She would never have guessed that Lydia had a playful side to her. That was definitely something that Gabriella could relate to.

"We're going out, today!"

"What? Why? Why so early?

"It's the weekend; there's nothing to do so we have to do something; especially now that we don't have to worry about the dead pool. We can actually relax."

"And what's your form of relaxation?" asked Gabriella. She wasn't sure if she really wanted to hear Lydia's answer. She was slightly afraid of what Lydia's answer could be; she knew that Lydia could be a very intense person so she wouldn't be surprised that everything she did, including relaxing, would also be intense.

"Shopping!" exclaimed Lydia. Gabriella sighed knowing that she had been right. "We'll get something to eat along the way too. But I haven't had a good shopping trip in a while. I mean, can you imagine trying to shop with girls that can barely color coordinate." Lydia rolled her eyes. "Come on! Let's get you ready!" Lydia started pushing the girl forward again. Gabriella didn't budge, being much stronger than Lydia, she could easily prevent herself from being moved by the banshee.

"My room's this way," said Gabriella, pulling Lydia in the proper direction.

The two had gone to lunch first before spending the rest of the afternoon shopping. Gabriella knew that she'd be lying if she had said that she didn't enjoy it. It was a new experience for her; she had never really had a friend like this, not a girl, at least; and she had definitely never gone shopping with a friend before. It was nice to have someone with her who could pay her compliments as well as honestly tell her what looked good and what did not. She could also tell that Lydia appreciated the same from her. There was a shared comfort between both of them. They each knew that the other needed a friend; they had found their way to each other and, luckily, they were a perfect match for one another.

Gabriella was starting to think that Lydia had some sort of limitless stamina abilities because she had yet to seem tired from the day of shopping while Gabriella felt utterly exhausted. Shopping, in her opinion, was way more emotionally exhausting than physically. Plus, she hadn't gotten to sleep in that morning either which surely didn't help.

As Lydia walked into a store, she promised it was the last one, Gabriella stopped as she caught sight of a bookshop in her peripheral vision. She turned to get a proper look at it; it was small and quaint and Gabriella hadn't been paying much attention to the lack of literature in her life amongst everything that had been going on. The only reading that she had been doing was for class. She turned back to see that Lydia had already gone inside the clothing store. She couldn't see Lydia through the window so she assumed Lydia was deep inside the store. She wondered if Lydia would miss her if she disappeared for a few minutes. Finally deciding that the banshee would be fine without her, she made her way into the bookshop. She walked through the aisles running her fingers along the spines of the books, until she stopped at a particular one.

"I definitely recommend that one." She didn't need to turn around to know that Lydia had been the one who had spoken up from behind her. "By the way, leaving me without even saying a word is a very rude thing to do." Gabriella smiled. She felt like this was become their own little inside joke.

"What's rude is you sneaking up behind me. You could have scared me!" said Gabriella.

"Oh, please. With your super-hearing?"

"You got me there." Gabriella pulled the book that she had had her fingers on out of the shelf. "So you like this book too then?" she asked.

"Of course!" exclaimed Lydia. "How could I not?" Gabriella laughed softly, running her hands over the cover; "Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day" it read.

"You do remind me of Delysia," said Gabriella. "Strong-spirited, a bit of a wild card, with several boys at your doorstep wishing for you to be theirs." Gabriella laughed at her last statement.

"Oh, you flatter me. So then this makes you my Guinevere."

"Are you calling me old-fashioned and dreary?" Gabriella had her hand over her heart; her mouth was open in mock-horror.

"Of course not, darling," said Lydia. "I'm calling you my partner-in-crime." Lydia turned to look at the book. She had read it several times; very much in awe of the friendship between the two aforementioned women.

"So you want me to tell you when to punch people?" asked Gabriella with a smirk.

"Exactly," replied Lydia. "The movie adaptation of this is spectacular."

"There's a movie adaptation?"

"What?" Lydia looked up at Gabriella with surprise written all over features. "How could you not even know about that?"

"Well, I didn't really have access to a television where I was raised."

"You poor, deprived child!"

"I am not a child," countered Gabriella as Lydia grabbed her wrist and started pulling her out of the store.

"We have got to go watch this right now. I have a copy at home and—" Gabriella cut Lydia off.

"As much as I would like to, Lyds, I'm really tired so can we do this another day?" asked Gabriella. Lydia pouted at her friend hoping that it would get her to give in. When she saw that the huntress was not going to give in to her demands, she conceded and the two agreed to meet later that week to watch the movie.

* * *

Tuesday, January 31st, 2012

Gabriellas eyes never left the television screen as the words "The End" appeared on the screen. She clutched a pillow tightly between her hands; she sat with her knees bent upward so that her head would have lay on her knees had she not had the pillow on them.

"What do you think?" asked Lydia, looking over at Gabriella. Her eyes were starting to water.

"It was good. And so sad," she answered. "Delysia and Guinevere having to part at the end always kills me; they would have been great best friends."

"They would have been," hummed Lydia lightly. "We can make up for it," she said holding her hand out toward Gabriella. "You're much better than I thought; much more like me than I originally thought." Gabriella smiled.

"Are you saying we should be best friends?" asked Gabriella. Lydia didn't say anything, replying with a smile. Gabriella put her hand in Lydia's, the huntress' soft smile turning into a grin.

"But you can't just focus on the sad parts!" exclaimed Lydia, quickly switching back to the movie topic. "They may not have remained together, but they each found love. They each found the perfect man." Gabriella laughed.

"I am glad that they did find their own happiness in the end, but I wish that their loves hadn't separated them."

"Hmm." Lydia seemed to be in thought now. "Have you ever been in love?" asked Lydia.

"Have you?" Gabriella diverted the question back to the strawberry blonde.

"Yes. Once. Maybe twice. But one moved to London and the other was killed." Gabriella nodded at her, understanding that she didn't want to talk about the subject anymore. "Now it's your turn since you never answered me."

"I don't think so," hesitated Gabriella. "Maybe. I don't know. What is it supposed to feel like?"

"It's hard to explain. What do you feel?"

"I feel like he's so perfect—every last little thing about him. And I want to keep him that way. I want to protect him from everything. I want to wake up to him every morning. I want to know every last little thing about his life. I want him to be mine and only mine."

"I'm not an expert but that sounds like it." Lydia saw Gabriella's grip tighten on the pillow. She knew she shouldn't pry, but she was too curious for her own good. "Gabby?" she asked. "Is it Stiles?" Gabriella's claws were now digging into the pillow. Lydia knew that she had gone too far. Gabriella obviously did not like the subject; let alone want to talk about it so she decided that it should be left alone.

"Want to make some cookies?" said Lydia, quickly trying to change the subject and the train of thought that Gabriella's brain was probably taking. She saw Gabriella relax and look up at her. "We can make chocolate chip." Gabriella nodded letting out a weak smile at her friend.


	14. Chapter 13

**A/N:** Ok. No more flashbacks. Why? Because I can only do so many flashbacks before I run out of ideas. And I'm starting to get annoyed, doing them. The most important things were shown so that's that.

 **I'm maybe (probably) going to discontinue this story** for reasons, mostly because I have lost interest in Teen Wolf (blame season 5, ugh). I HAVE planned what would happen for the rest of the story so worry not! If I do discontinue it then I will explain everything that would have happened so you guys can at least have closure. I hate when stories I read get discontinued and I never get to know what would have happened.

Of course, maybe you guys can try and convince me to try and finish this. **I am also considering re-watching my favorite season (3B) to see if I can get back to obsessing over Stiles** , but...it's possible I may just be done with Teen Wolf for good. Dammit, why must all the shows I like end up being ruined?

* * *

 **Saturday, February 4th, 2012**

"How did you get a prison transport van?" asked Stiles after exiting his jeep with Malia and Liam. Braeden exited her van at the same time.

"I'm a U.S. Marshal," she answered.

"Yeah. I just thought that was just a cover," said Stiles. Braeden looked over her shoulder at the sound of a door being shut.

"Are we really bringing him?" asked Derek.

"Are we really bringing _him_?" asked Stiles gesturing toward Peter.

"And her?" growled Malia her stare dead set on Gabriella. Stiles spared a glance at her; her eyes were also set on Malia, but they didn't hold that playfulness that she normally had around her. She didn't try to tease Malia. She didn't even bother to speak. Stiles quickly looked away from her. He was back with Malia now, he thought. He should be happy. He should be ecstatic that he was lucky enough to get the girl back. And yet, he still felt something tugging at him. Maybe it was just his nerves.

"We're bringing everyone that we can," said Peter. "And considering Scott and Kira were taken the night before a full moon, we should probably get going."

"What's that mean?" asked Malia.

"If Kate took Scott back to the same temple that she took Derek, how do we know she's not planning to do the same thing to him?"

"What?" began Liam. "She wants to make him younger?"

"Or take him back to when he wasn't a werewolf," said Derek.

"A werewolf can't steal a true alpha's power," said Peter. "But maybe a nagual, with the power of the Tezcatlipoca behind her, maybe she can. So, if everyone is sufficiently freaked out, I say we get going."

"We can't," said Stiles. "Not without Lydia."

"Well, where is she?" asked Derek.

"At school. She should be getting here soon." Stiles walked outside, punching in Lydia's number, hoping that she would pick up the phone.

"What's she doing in school anyway?" asked Derek.

"We got Kira's sword," said Malia, "but we need something with a stronger scent. Lydia went to get a jacket out of her locker."

"Nothing," said Stiles as he walked back in. Gabriella wanted to keep her gaze off of him, but she couldn't help but watch him. He was worried. She didn't just smell it on him; she saw it. He kept running his hands through his hair. He couldn't keep still; he was pacing the majority of the time.

"If she has a car," began Braeden, "she can catch up to us."

"That's a good point," said Peter. "We'll call her from the road."

"No," said Stiles. "What if something happened? What if she's in trouble?"

"Fine. You stay, you find her. We're gonna go on without you." Stiles had a look of helplessness on his face. He didn't want to leave Lydia. He was worried about her. But he couldn't just leave to go find her. He had to go to Mexico; he had to find his best friend.

"I'll go find her," said Gabriella. Stiles looked up at her, feeling his stress over the issue begin to fade away.

"But then you wouldn't be coming with us," said Derek,

"Fine by me," said Malia. Gabriella ignored her comment.

"I have to," she said. "Lydia's my friend. I can't just go prancing off to Mexico without knowing if she's still even alive. You guys will be fine without me for a bit. As soon as I find her, we'll take off and catch up to you guys, okay?" Everyone seemed to think that it was a good enough idea and started to ready themselves to go. As Gabriella made her way out of the hangar Stiles stopped her for a moment. His hand was wrapped around her wrist so she stopped walking, but she kept her gaze ahead of her and away from him.

"Thank you," he said to her. He let go of her arm and, as soon as he had, she continued to walk away from with without responding to him or even giving him a second glance.

* * *

When Gabriella arrived to the school, she immediately knew what was going on. It was silent, which was expected since it was the weekend, and it would not have seemed abnormal to her, if it wasn't for the scent that she picked up—a mixture of death and blood and rotting flesh: a scent that she attributed to the berserkers. There was one of them here, and they were probably after Lydia. Gabriella ran as fast as she could toward the source of the smell; there was no way that anyone was going to hurt a single hair on her newfound friend.

She ran into the cafeteria and saw Lydia hiding with her back leaning on an overturned table. The berserker was walking toward her, the boney blade that it used poking out of its wrist. She hissed and let her body relax into a partial shift. She ran toward Lydia first, kneeling down before her. She quickly looked over the strawberry blonde to make sure that she was okay. Gabriella saw no bruises, but her face looked absolutely terrified. She could hear how rapidly Lydia's heart was beating. Lydia seemed to relax a bit seeing that Gabriella was now there, but she didn't have time to say anything to the huntress as she quickly ran beside the table and toward the berserker. Lydia couldn't help, but turn around and peek her head over the upper edge of the table.

Gabriella ran at the berserker at top speed. He aimed to hit her as soon as she was close enough, but she jumped up, dodging his attack, and landed on his arm. Gabriella was irritated as it were and this berserker was not helping her mood. She needed to finish this quickly; she needed to get to Mexico already. There's going to be a fight. She knew that that was inevitable. But the fight was with berserkers and werewolves and a nagual. And Stiles would be caught in the middle of all of that. He wouldn't be the only human there. But he would be the only defenseless human there—the most defenseless person there. She needed to be there with them; she needed to protect Stiles.

She dug her claws into the bone mask that the berserker wore. It was in moments like these that Gabriella was grateful for being what she was; having steel claws helps when you're trying to break through bone.

Her claws dug through bone, through flesh that she didn't think the berserkers even had. And then she pulled her claws back out, letting the mask break as she jumped back and off of the berserker. He fell to his knees as pieces of the mask fell to the floor, and then he turned to dust.

"I wasn't sure what would happen, but it was definitely not that," said Gabriella as she shifted back to normal. Lydia ran to her, giving her a hug. Gabriella returned it, glad that her friend was safe.

"We were worried about you," said Gabriella. "You didn't show up and then when we called you didn't pick up. Stiles wanted to find you, but I offered—" Lydia cut her off.

"Stiles?" questioned Lydia.

"Yea. Is that surprising? You know that he cares about you." Lydia gave her a look that said that she knew there was more to it than that. If it involved Stiles, then it wasn't just simple—not with Gabriella.

"We have to go!" said Gabriella urgently.

"What?"

"They left without us!"

"Well, that's rude."

"I told them we'd take your car and catch up with them." Lydia nodded at her, rushing out of the school and toward the car. Gabriella hastily followed placing herself in the passenger seat as Lydia started the car. But when she looked over Lydia seemed frozen in place. Her mouth was set into a tight-lipped frown and her hands were holding onto the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles were turning white.

"Lydia?" asked Gabriella. Lydia was unresponsive. Gabriella placed a hand on Lydia's shoulder gently. The moment she made contact with Lydia's shoulder, the banshee gasped, jumping back.

"What was that about?" asked Gabriella.

"Scott's going to die," she replied.

"No. Come on, Lydia, we have to go. Forget about the speed limit. We have to get there in time. We can prevent this." Lydia adhered, moving out of the parking lot and driving off as fast as she could.

* * *

When Gabriella and Lydia arrived at La Iglesia, it was much quieter than they had expected. The first thing that Gabriella smelled was blood; it put her on edge. She rushed out of the car, Lydia following behind her. Gabriella followed the scent of blood; it led her to a bleeding Derek behind a rock with Braeden by his side.

"Oh my God," said Lydia. Her hand covered her mouth.

"Lydia," said Derek. He seemed to be struggling to speak. "You were right."

"No, no, no," she said. "This can't be happening." Breaden flickered her eyes over at Gabriella; she stood there, her eyes zoned out. Braeden knew that she must have been focusing on finding the others—trying to pinpoint their scents. Gabriella was terrified. She wanted to protect the pack, Scott's pack, but mostly she wanted to protect Stiles because she knew that he wasn't capable of protecting himself. Stiles may have hurt her; he may have broken her heart, but she knew that she wouldn't be able to handle it if he died. She'd watched many people pass away, but she knew that it'd be different with Stiles. She didn't care about those other people the way she cared about Stiles.

Her eyes shifted as she caught his scent. She could smell fear and anxiety mixed in with it.

"Go help them," said Braeden.

"Wait," said Lydia. Gabriella stood in a position to quickly run off, but remained still waiting for Lydia to speak up. "Tell them what I said. Tell them that Scott's going to die." Gabriella nodded before she quickly ran off entering the strange cavern, leaving Lydia behind where she hoped that she'd be safe. She didn't know Braeden, she didn't even trust her, but she had the hope that she would protect her strawberry blonde friend.

As she got closer to the group, she was able to hear them. She heard Stiles on the phone speaking to his dad who seemed to be upset with him. She relaxed to hear Stiles' voice; this meant that he hadn't been hurt.

"She was at the school," said Stiles referring to Lydia. "Gabriella went to go look for her, but we haven't heard anything from either of them. I don't know, dad. I don't know what I'm doing. You know, I'm just...I'm trying to save my friends."

"Okay," replied the Sheriff. She was getting very close to them. It was difficult to figure out where they were, though. She could smell and hear them, but there were so many twists, so many holes and openings. She wasn't sure if she was even going the right way.

"I'll find Lydia and Gabriella," said the Sheriff. Just as he said that Gabriella walked forward, finally seeing her friends; well, some of them were her friends.

"There's no need for that," she said. The pack looked over at her. She smelled Stiles' anxiety ease.

"And Lydia?" he asked her.

"She's fine. Waiting outside with Derek as we speak."

"Dad, they're safe. Thank god, they're safe."

"Alright. You get Scott and Kira," said the Sheriff. "You save your friends."

"Ok," he replied, ending the call.

"Guys," said Gabriella. "Scott's going to die. Lydia said that he's going to die." Stiles face grew paler.

"No, he can't," he said.

"What do we do now?" asked Liam after sighing heavily.

"Duck," Malia says all of a sudden, pulling Liam down with her.

"Get down," shouted Peter. "Go back. Get back!" Peter ushered the lot of them away from the berserker that had appeared. "Go! Go, go, go, go!" Gabriella didn't want to run. She wanted to face the berserker and fight him. She knew that she could, but she felt everyone else pushing on her, urging her to go forward, so she did. They ran into a more open area, which made Gabriella feel more at ease. If she had to fight, this was a much better place to do so.

"Go find Kira and Scott," said Malia. Gabriella hadn't liked Malia very much from the beginning. She didn't hate the werecoyote; she had given her no reason to. But she couldn't let herself trust her. She knew that she never would, but she could see the possibility of growing some respect from her. She was risking herself to save her friends; she smelled the concern coming off of her. This wasn't an act.

"Go!" she said to Stiles, turning around to face the oncoming berserker. Peter and Liam also remained behind.

Gabriella was unsure of what to do. She could either stay and help the three of them defeat the berserker, which would be helpful to them, or she could run off after Stiles like every single part of her body begged her to. Gabriella assured herself that two werewolves and a werecoyote would be enough to take down one berserker, and ran off after Stiles. Gabriella quickly caught up with Stiles. He looked back, afraid that it was someone that was going to attack him, but felt alleviated to see Gabriella there. He knew that she would protect him. She had before.

"Scott?" he shouted out into the darkness. "Kira?" They found Kira leaning against a wall. She looked tired and had blood was running down her face. Gabriella was sure that that wasn't her only wound.

"Are you okay?" asked Stiles, Kira quickly moved toward him.

"It's Scott," she said. "Stiles, it's Scott."

"What?"

"The berserker. It's him. Kate did it."

"What are you talking about?"

"She made him into one of them. I don't know how, but it's him. If they don't know it, they could kill him."

"That's what Lydia meant," said Gabriella. They turned around, rushing to get back to the others before they hurt the true alpha. They got there just as Malia was about to smash into the berserk's skull.

"No, wait, wait, Malia, wait!" shouted Stiles. Malia wasn't going to stop so Kira moved to slash the weapon that she was using before she could hit the skull.

"It's Scott," said Stiles. "It's Scott."

Liam and Peter were holding the berserker back, but, in their moment of distraction, the berserker slammed the two of them against each other. They both fell to the floor. Now free, he turned his attention to Malia. He punched her in the face sending her to the floor as well. Gabriella quickly moved to stand in front of Stiles. Her fangs and claws were showing. Her eyes glowed a bright green. She started to shift further into her feline form than she normally did. Spots started to appear along her neck and cheeks. She needed all of her strength if she was going to protect Stiles from a berserker that she couldn't kill. The berserker turned his attention to Liam.

"Scott?" shouted Kira. "Scott, don't!"

"Scott it's me," said Stiles, moving away from Gabriella. Gabriella sensed it before she saw it. Her hair stood on end. She shoved Stiles to the side in a split second. She had never been so grateful for her quick reflexes. He fell to the floor, consequently, but, thankfully, it caused him to avoid the hit that was aimed at him. The punch that the berserker had sent toward Scott's way hit Gabriella at full force, right in her face. She was pushed back a few inches, but she didn't fall to the ground as the others had. She had been through worse. She often hated the cruelty that she had been subjected to. She wished often that she had had a normal life—well, a normal supernatural life. But it was at moments like these that she appreciated her harsh training. She wasn't necessarily stronger than the others. But being beaten within an inch of your life on more than one occasion teaches one not to back down, not to fall so easily, and not to react to pain. Her eyes seemed to glow brighter. The spots on her skin spreading down her arms. Fur began to crawl up her neck. She was starting to shift more and more.

The berserker walked toward Liam. He wrapped his hand around Liam's throat and pushed him up against the wall.

"Scott, don't!" shouted Kira.

"Scott," said Liam. The berserker started lifting Liam higher against the wall, making the strain on Liam's body worse. He pulled back his arm ready to land a heavy punch.

"Scott, Scott, listen, listen, listen!" said Liam. "You're not a monster. You're a werewolf; like me." The berserker lowered his arm and Liam as well. He removed his hand from Liam's throat allowing the boy to breathe properly again. The berserker began to step back. He pulled the glove-like attire from his arms. He removed the chest peace and then ripped the skull off. He was no longer the berserker; he was Scott once more. He let out a fierce roar as the skull mask was removed from his face.

"You," he said, his gaze set on Peter. "The only one who knew as much as Argent about berserkers, about nagual. You taught Kate. You helped her. All for power."

"For my family's power," said Peter. Malia stepped away from the man as he said that. Gabriella felt sympathy for the girl. To have a father that has done such horrid deeds, who continues to do them claiming it to be for familial reasons, must be a tough matter to deal with.

"To be rightfully inherited by me," he continued. "Not usurped by some idiot, teenage boy, so incorruptible he won't shed the blood of his enemies even when justified. You don't deserve your power." His eyes started to glow blue. "Not power like this." His face started to shift, to morph. He roared at Scott, a challenge of sorts. Malia quickly shifted, partially, as well. She roared back at her father, pouncing at him, but with one quick hit, she flew across the room, hitting a sheet of wood with her back.

"Oh, sorry, sweetheart," said Peter. "We'll talk about this later." Kira readied herself to attack Peter with her sword.

"Kira!" shouted Scott, catching her attention. She backed away as she saw Scott readying himself to take Peter on.

"You were my Beta first, Scott," said Peter. "It was my bite that changed your life and my bite that can end it."

"Then end it, Peter," challenged Scott. "Because you won't get another chance." Peter roared at him before running toward the alpha. Scott roared back also charging forward. The two jumped into the air, meeting each other halfway, claws ready to attack. The two clawed at each other midair before landing. Peter landed on his feet while Scott landed on his back, but he quickly flipped himself off of the ground. They clawed at each other swinging punches every now and then.

"Come on, Scott," Peter said. "Come on!" He grabbed onto Scott and threw him against a wall. The moment Scott landed on the floor, Peter was grabbing by shirt bringing him to his feet only to swing him into another wall. "Fight like an alpha, Scott." He grabbed Scott yet again pushing him against one of the columns. Scott quickly retaliated turning the two around and jumping off of a wall. He grabbed Peter, throwing him at a wall as Peter had done to him. They swung punches at each other again and again.

"You want to defeat me, Scott?" asked Peter. He placed his hand on the back of the neck of a kneeling Scott. "You're going to have to kill me." He grabbed onto Scott once more, swinging him at another wall. Liam stepped forward toward Peter. He wanted to help his alpha. But Peter wouldn't let that happen; he grabbed an old, dilapidated bench and flung it at the beta. It shattered to pieces before it him. Scott picked himself off of the floor, angry that Peter had tried to hurt his beta. Peter turned back toward Scott, growling at him again. He stood up, ready to fight Peter once again. They started swinging at each other again, but this time it appeared as if Peter was not match for Scott. He punched Peter across the room with ease. Scott jumped onto a table, looking down on Peter.

"You were never an alpha, Peter," said Scott. "But you were always a monster." Scott sent one last punch toward Peter, effectively knocking him unconscious. Everyone walked back into the center toward Scott.

* * *

Everyone now stood outside of La Iglesia; dirt and blood covering them. They were all exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go home. Araya walked over to Scott when the pack walked out of the caverns.

"Lobito," she said. Scott immediately tensed as she got closer to him. "Remember what I told you before?" Scott didn't answer. "When you turn your first beta." She looked over at Liam, an insidious smile on her face. He tensed his muscles, ready to fight the woman, even if she was surrounded by a group of hunters. And then Gabriella moved to stand between him and Araya.

"He turned his first beta," she said, "but it was the only way that he could have saved the boy's life." She turned her head back to look at Liam, quickly turning back to Araya. She looked the older woman in the eyes; she had never had the courage to hold her gaze, but this time she was not going to back down. "Scott's been teaching him control. Neither of them have hurt any innocents. They haven't taken any lives. They don't deserve to die."

"Mi hija," began Araya, "are you saying that you're going to defy me?" Gabriella didn't answer, keeping her jaw tense.

"We hunt those who hunt us," she said. "That's what you taught me. But Scott, and his pack, they don't hunt us; they don't hunt any humans. So we can't hunt them. It's against the code." Araya's face softened slightly.

"I taught you well, mi hija," she said. "Maybe too well." That sounded like a threat to Gabriella and, knowing Araya, she was sure that it was. "I'll let them live for now. Only because you seem so determined about this. You are lucky, Scott." Araya stepped back, letting the pack say their goodbyes to Chris.

"There's enough yellow wolfsbane to keep Peter out for the trip back," said Chris. "But be careful."

"You're really going with them?" asked Scott.

"I want to help them catch Kate."

"What if you can't?" asked Kira.

"I'll find her," he said. "Someone has to." Araya turned to leave with Chris following behind her. Gabriella did not move to follow. Araya noticed when she stopped by the Calavera's van.

"Come on, mi hija," she said. "It's time for us to go." Gabriella still did not budge. "Gabriella," she said. She only called her by her name when she was upset. Gabriella gulped, her instinct was telling her to obey the older woman. She knew what the woman was capable of; what she could and would do to her if she didn't heed to her command. But she balled her hands into fists and held her ground. She shook her head at Araya, signaling to her that she wasn't going to move. Araya gave her a deadly look; one that said that she was willing to use force to bring her. Gabriella knew that if she had to, she would have her almost killed so that she would be dragged back with them. But she refused to give in to the woman. She had done that for most of her life and she had had enough. It was time that she lived her own life. It was time for her to be happy.

"I want to stay here," said Gabriella. "I've finally found a place where I feel like I belong. And if Scott will have me, I'd like to join his pack." Gabriella looked back at Scott to see him nod at her. She turned back to Araya watching the look in her eyes change to something that she had never seen before. "And this way I can keep an eye on Beacon Hills. This place is so overrun with the supernatural that it needs someone to protect it, especially with Chris leaving." Araya sends her a small smile.

"You have grown a lot, mi hija. I expect to see you in the summer." And with that she stepped into the van, leaving her and the pack behind. That's when it hit Gabriella; the look that she had seen in the woman's eyes was pride. Gabriella felt her heart swell. She had never looked at her like that. No one had ever looked at her like that. Maybe things could really change for her for the better.


	15. End

**A/N: It is long, but it is very important so please read it.**

It's terrible and I feel horrible about, but I have decided to discontinue this story because I no longer have the motivation to continue it. I loved Teen Wolf and was obsessed with Stiles for a while, especially after season 3B. But when season 5 aired...I just didn't enjoy it at all and that made me lose interest in the show. It upsets me because it was a good show and I feel like they should have made season 4 different enough in a way that it would have been the last. While I'm all for more of the things that I like, I very much dislike when shows are stretched out past what they should be just because networks want to make more money. Unfortunately for me, this seems to be the case for most of the shows that I have liked. It's also upsetting because I did really like this story and I had three more story ideas for Stiles, involving three different OCs, that I had planned to write, but now I doubt that they will ever happen.

I am really grateful for this fic though. It does mean a lot to me because I hadn't written any fanfiction for about three years or so before this. This was able to bring back my desire to write because I have been writing lots of fanfic since then—just not for Teen Wolf.

Lastly, I really hate when stories that I like are discontinued so I do feel very guilty for having to discontinue it, but no matter how hard I try, I cannot bring myself to write for this. I hate even more when these discontinued stories have no ending and leave me without closure. Thankfully, I had planned out the second half of the story long beforehand so at least you won't have to suffer through that. What I had planned out was fairly general, but I tried to add as much detail as I could. Pardon any plot holes. I hope that this will provide you some closure.

Once again, I am very sorry and I hope that you will be satisfied well enough with this.

* * *

Wednesday, February 9th, 2012

Classes began again on Monday, February 6th; it was the first day of the second semester. The pack begins to relax, seeing that the threat seems to be finally gone and hoping that no more supernatural occurrences will happen so that they can have a normal second half of their junior year (sophomore for Liam).

On that day, however, during the class in which Gabriella and Stiles and Scott are in, a bunch of spiders start swarming into the classroom from under the door and the vents and the outlets and pretty much every opening in the room. People scream and freak out and they all rush out of the room only to realize that it's an infestation throughout the school. The school is evacuated and closed for the rest of the week while it's fumigated.

Stiles points out how odd this entire situation is, but the Scott and the others don't want to question it too much and shrug it off to it being a random thing. Gabriella doesn't think so and readily takes Stiles' suspicion seriously. She can't help but let her eyes linger on Stiles while he's deep in thought, but then Malia moves next to him and glares over at Gabriella who meets it with a blank face. Malia pulls Stiles away from his thoughts with a kiss and Gabriella looks away, a burning pain growing in her chest.

* * *

Tuesday, February 14th, 2012

The school is holding a Valentine's Day dance. Scott goes with Kira, Stiles goes with Malia, and Lydia and Gabriella decide to go together. While there, Gabriella decides to push away all her heartbreak and just let herself enjoy the night with her best friend. They dance and laugh.

Meanwhile, Stiles and Scott are standing to the side, Malia and Kira having gone to the bathroom together. Scott is staring off somewhere so Stiles follows his gaze to find Gabriella and Lydia together also standing to the side. As a new song starts, a boy comes up to Lydia and asks her to dance. Lydia looks back at Gabriella to ask her if it's okay and she just nods. Stiles continues to stare at Gabriella. Scott tells him to go to her if he's just going to keep staring. Stiles hesitates, but decides to do what Scott suggested.

He greets her, she replied and they stand in a tense silence for a bit before he asks her to dance. She hesitates to answer, but before she can finally give her answer, Stiles grabs her hand and pulls her over to the dance floor. It's a slow song that's playing so they can't help it when the moment starts to feel intimate. Stiles tries to begin a conversation with her as they dance, but it just pains her and upsets her because she was having such a good time and he just had to come and ruin it. Stiles brings up Malia in a comment that upsets Gabriella, which causes her to push his hands off of her and walk away from him. Stiles is left there confused.

* * *

Friday, February 17th, 2012

During lunch, Stiles brings up to the pack that over the past week there have been several incidents of people being attacked by rabid animals. Liam doesn't understand how that's strange making Stiles point out that these attacks never really happened before that. He then argues that there must be something supernatural going on, but Scott points out that Stiles is always saying that "two's a coincidence". Stiles argues that this is different and there's no need for three things to happen to see that something is definitely going on. While the conversation continues and eventually changes topics, Gabriella is lost in thought, knowing that there is truth to Stiles' assumption. She racks her brain through her knowledge of all the different types of supernatural creatures that she knows about, but can't remember anything that would fit into what has been happening.

[I never planned to write for season 5, even before it came out, but when it did, one of the things that I actually liked was Theo's character so I decided to add him in. He is a werewolf here and is not a bad guy!]

Later that night, while the pack hangs out somewhere (like a diner or something), a boy comes up to them who introduces himself as a childhood friend of Scott's, Theo. He joins in with the group and they all seem to take a liking to him except Stiles who can't help but be suspicious because of everything that's going on.

* * *

Monday, February 20th, 2012 – Friday, March 24th, 2012

Throughout the week, Theo starts hanging out with the pack and assimilating into it. Gabriella hits it off with him very well and the two start flirting with each other, progressively more and more. Gabriella is glad about their growing friendship because it helps take her mind off of Stiles. Stiles can't help but notice her flirting with him and starts to feel jealous, but tries his best to ignore the feeling.

* * *

Thursday, March 1st, 2012

There's a bus crash, very serious; several people died. (On a side note, Lydia ended up there, but that's irrelevant). Stiles points it out and brings up that "three's a pattern" since that was a reason why Scott didn't want to believe him before, but Scott says that he doesn't see a connection between the three incidents; they are nothing alike. Gabriella, like usual, agrees with Stiles' speculation and decides to speak up about it this time. She says that a connection is the fact that they were all random without seemingly any cause. She tells them that they should be wary because it's better to be safe than sorry. Scott agrees causing Stiles to respond with "Oh, you listen to her, but not me."

* * *

Saturday, March 10th, 2012

There's an explosion at a gas station. Also sensed by Lydia.

* * *

Sunday, March 18th, 2012

The pack hangs out at Lydia's house when they are caught off guard by a huge thunderstorm (it was odd because the weather forecast had said nothing but sunshine). They decide to stay the night since driving in that storm would not be a good idea. Then there's a power outage and Stiles voices that he's starting to think that this has something to do with the incidents that have been going on. Stiles looks out the window at a point only to see a figure outside with fiery, red eyes—different from the red of a werewolf alpha's eyes. He turns around and tells everyone, when he turns back around it's gone.

* * *

Friday, March 23rd, 2012

Early that day, Malia breaks up with Stiles with the reason of being in love with someone else and that that person returned her feelings. Stiles is hurt, but not as much as he expected to be/felt that he should be. He asks her who and she tells him that it's Theo. This confuses Stiles because he thought that Theo liked Gabriella; that's what he had gathered by their constant flirting. He wonders if she knew about this yet and how she feels about it.

With Gabriella: Theo tells her that he needs to talk to her and pulls her aside. Unbeknownst to the others (except Lydia), the two have been having a sort of fling (making out and whatnot). He tells her that he can't do those things with her anymore because he's with someone else and will be dating them now. He says that it doesn't matter anyway since their relationship was purely sexual in nature. Still, Gabriella gets angry, though she holds it in. She asks him who the someone else is and she tells him that it's Malia. Her initial reaction is confusion because last she saw, Malia was still with Stiles. Then her secondary reaction is her anger being replaced with sadness. She leaves him without saying a word and goes to find Lydia.

Gabriella tells Lydia everything that happens and then has a breakdown because Theo ended things with her because of Malia, of all people. (Gabriella says stuff along the lines of: "But then why? Both of them. Both of them chose her over me. What does she have that I don't? What makes her so much better than me? Why am I not good enough?")

* * *

Wednesday, March 28th, 2012

Fires spontaneously start in several different locations all at the same time. The pack now fully agree that something supernatural is happening, but they don't know how to figure out what it is. They ask Gabriella for help since she's a hunter, but she doesn't know either. She says that there aren't any tracks to follow; there's not enough clues to go off of.

Supernatural stuff aside, Stiles doesn't find himself all that bothered by seeing Malia with Theo. Awkward? Yes, but jealous? No. Instead, he finds himself focused on Gabriella more than he was before and can't help but notice that she's become so quiet. He wonders how long that's been going on; if he just noticed now.

* * *

Sunday, April 1st, 2012

The pack has a huge prank war with each other. Gabriella finds herself laughing a lot and having the most fun that she's had in a long time. After a series of events, Stiles and Gabriella find themselves hiding from the others together and planning out a prank with each other to catch the others. Stiles is happy that the two are finally having a conversation and is glad to see her smiling and laughing so much again.

* * *

Thursday, April 5th, 2012 [Week of Spring Break]

A train randomly derails. Stiles and Scott go together to the location where it happened to investigate to see if they can find any sort of clues. While there, Stiles sees the figure with the fiery, red eyes again. This time the figure is clearer, though. It looks like a large, black dog. He points it out to Scott without pulling his eyes away this time. Scott sees it and can tell that it's not a werewolf. They decide to go to talk to Deaton.

After describing what the creature looks like, he tells them that it must be a Barguest—a creature that appears like a large, black dog with fiery red eyes and that causes disasters wherever it goes. They duo call a pack meeting to decide their next course of action.

* * *

Sunday, April 8th, 2012

The town has been quiet; no disasters have happened nor any sightings of the Barguest so the pack has failed to put their plan into action.

That aside, it's Easter and they had all planned to meet up. However, Malia, Theo, and Liam all end up having to cancel. Still, the remaining ones meet up to relax and paint Easter eggs and have fun. Something else happens here between Stiles and Gabriella (I never figured out what).

* * *

Tuesday, April 10th, 2012

The pack attempt to catch the Barguest, but fail.

* * *

Saturday, April 20th, 2012

The pack has separated into pairs and are patrolling the town in hopes of finding the Barguest. Stiles and Gabriella go together in his jeep. They so end up running into the Barguest, but they end up getting into a car accident. Gabriella maneuvers herself in front of Stiles quick enough in a way that causes her to take more of the impact than him (she gets injured severely and only survives because she is supernatural). Stiles feels guilty and then later on expresses his gratitude for not just that, but for always protecting him.

* * *

Wednesday, May 2nd, 2012

They are hunting for the Barguest again and find it. Lydia senses that a death is going to happen, but she can't figure out who. She tells everyone to be extra careful.

They attempt to capture the Barguest and in the process, Gabriella gets bitten by it protecting Stiles. The Barguest is then able to get away from the pack. The pack gets worried, Stiles the most, when she won't stop bleeding. Gabriella tells them something that she knows about Barguests: that the wounds that they inflict can't heal. Stiles has never felt more guilty in his life and refuses to believe that that's true.

They take her to Deaton, only to hear the same thing from him. He also tells them that they can save her, but the only way is by killing the Barguest. And they'd have to do it before she bled to death. They immediately rush out to go find and catch it. Stiles and Lydia stay behind.

Lydia is devastated because she doesn't want to lose her best friend (again; since she lost Allison before). She feels bad because she had sensed it before and says that if she had been able to figure out who it was that was going to die then it could have been prevented. Gabriella tells her that it doesn't work that it's not her fault. Lydia leaves the room to give her some time with Stiles.

Stiles can't help but feel like this was all his fault because she got the wound protecting him. He gets upset with her and questions why she's always protecting him at the risk of her own life. Thinking that she is going to die, she decides to confess her feelings and tells him that it's because she loves him. Stiles is left speechless, jaw dropped, unsure of how to react. Gabriella sighs and tells him that she understands if he doesn't feel that way and that it doesn't matter anyway. She tells him that she doesn't regret saying it because she needed to make sure that he knew that before she died. Stiles tells her not to say things like that and that she's not going to die. He embraces her and then whispers to her that he thinks he loves her too. Gabriella is surprised. Then they kiss.

The pack ends up catching and killing the Barguest just in time to save Gabriella.

* * *

Saturday, May 11th, 2012

The day before was the last day of classes. Gabriella is heading off to the Calaveras in Mexico for the summer. She bids her farewells from everyone—Stiles, last. After their confession to each other, they only became closer, but they never started a relationship because she would be leaving soon. Gabriella tells her that she still loves him and that when she gets back they will see if they still feel the same about each other. And if they do, they will go from there.

* * *

 _The End._


End file.
